#something something guilt has no place here but the practical question remains How are you going to see your own number without give-take

[midnightdemonhunter]

Watch yourself.

[imaginesbymonika]

Red lights.

Plot: If guilt had a name it would be Dean Winchester.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x sister!Reader

Warnings: mention of violence, mention of Demon!Dean, needles, blood, fluff in the end but only a bit

Everything happened so fast. So very fast.

The red lightning, which emerges from the lamps above you turns the bunker into a place you're unable to recognize. This whole situation has been feeling like a never-ending nightmare for a while and now it was also looking like one. Dean has always reassured you, that while the world around you was filled with ghosts and demons he would always look out for you. And you never questioned him. However, right now, you were hiding from him as if he turned into one of those monsters he swore to protect you from. You look up you can notice it in Sam's eyes. You're not the only one terrified of your oldest brother.

"Smart, Sam. Looking the place down. Doors won't open. I get it." His deep voice is echoing through the empty and cold hallways. "But here's the thing. I don't wanna leave. Not till I find you two."

Your relationship with Dean has always been different from the one you have with Sam. While the younger brother actually feels like a brother to you, Dean has always meant more to you. After all, he practically raised you since you were a little child. However, at this moment, while his hammer was destroying the door, you tried your best to still see him in all of this. He may be a demon, but underneath all of that hatred your brother had to remain… right? But it becomes much more difficult with every second that passes. You take a deep breath.

"Y/N.", Dean suddenly says and Sam instantly pushes you behind his bigger body. "Oh, come on.", you can see how a fake pout emerges on his face:" I just want to talk to my sweet little baby girl." For a moment he lowers his weapon as he stares you down through the shattered wood:" Don't think, that I won't also kill you. I can still sense my love for you, however, it is not enough for me to save you. But if you help me kill Sammy, I might make it quick for you." There's a ringing in your ears. "Don't listen to him.", Sam whispers but his voice is muffled and feels unbelievably far away.

Dean has never ever threatened you. Even when you were much younger and he had earned a beating from John, because of something that you did on his watch… he never ever threatened you before. It was something that seemed impossible to you. But now it had happened and it filled you with an unknown emotion.

"Come on.", Sam speaks and clutches your hand, bringing you back into reality. You two rush through the red hallways and after a minute or two you stop. Sam takes a deep breath and when he turns around to face you, his eyes widen in fear. You don't even have time to properly react before he pushes you to the cold ground. And when you look up, you make eye contact with Dean. His hammer sticking to the wall. It was hurled with such an immense force that it makes your jaw drop.

"Oh man, looks like I missed.", he says softly:" Can I try again?" There is a sincerity in his voice that makes your skin crawl. You nearly throw up. Meanwhile, Sam's knife is close to his throat. So close, it's almost making him bleed.

"Do it!", the oldest brother angrily hisses, his spit dripping down his chin. But Sam's arm just drops after a few seconds. You shut your eyes, not knowing what is about to happen next before you unexpectedly hear Castiel's voice. "It's over!"

You sit on the floor next to the door, your back is leaning against one of the shelves while you observe how Sam pushes yet another needle into your oldest brother's forearm. A weird emptiness has been filling you up for a while now, and while you should be happy that Dean is back at the bunker… you can't help but feel drained. "Are you okay, Y/N?", Castiel asks, and when you eventually tear your eyes off Dean's unconscious body you only nod.

Sam sighs:" He almost killed her." Castiel's eyes widen in shock, as his head snaps towards him. "He did what?" You want to defend Dean, but before you can answer someone groans. Castiel notices how you quickly get up from your spot, and softly nudges you to stand behind him. His grip on his knife tightens to the point where his knuckles are white. Meanwhile, Sam was slowly opening up the bottle with the holy water.

Dean lifts his head and when you notice his black eyes you can't help but feel sick. You quickly turn around and throw up into the corner. Sam and Castiel exchange a quick but worried look. The blackness quickly fades and when his normal eyes scan the room he takes one final deep breath. "You look worried, fellas.", he jokes, but no one laughs. You turn around at the sound of his voice, before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Without waiting a second longer, you snatch the bottle out of Sam's hand and toss the liquid into Dean's face. A pleased sigh escapes your lips when you acknowledge that there is no smoke. "Welcome back, Dean!"

"How is he holding up?"

Sam, who is entering the room looks over at the angel. "Well, he is still a bit out of it, nevertheless, he is doing better." You look up from your book. "The whole thing really took a turn on him- he… he just feels really guilty." The last word leaves Castiels lips as a whisper as if he was hoping you wouldn't hear it. But you did.

A knock on the door catches Dean's attention and he shifts on his bed before sitting up straight:" Yeah?" He expected to see either his brother or Castiel, however when he makes eye contact with you his jaw clenches. "Hey.", you say and slowly walk into his room. You sit down on the edge of the bed. A soft but tired smile emerges on your lips and Dean mirrors it. "Hey."

"I just- I just wanted to check in with you.", you explain and your brother nods. A silence falls over the two of you and you clear your throat:" Remember- Remember when we were younger… you came back from a hunt and you were hurt and John was… god knows where. We didn't have anything in the fridge except for some eggs and cheese."

At that Dean laughs:" And you made me that god-awful omelet? Of course, how could I ever forget about that? My arm was broken and I had the worst stomach pains on top of that." Once again you both sit in silence before Dean runs a hand down his face:" I am so sorry, Y/N." The sound of his voice breaks your heart and you move closer to him:" It's okay, Dee." He just chuckles dry. You know that he won't ever believe you.

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

Always.

Everything about SatoSugu makes me absolutely depressed, so I thought I would contribute.

TW/Cw: AU( Geto doesn’t stop Gojo from killing the worshippers), death, violence, suicide mention, self injurious behaviour, depression, angst, living with guilt. Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru

WC: Roughly 2200

“Suguru, should we… kill these guys? The way I am right now, I doubt I would feel anything?”

They had been only sixteen. Suguru didn’t speak at that time. He had turned his back on his one and only friend. He had heard the screams of the dying. The applause stopping at once. Satoru Gojo had snapped. And Suguru could have prevented it.

He could have walked back down the stairs, snapped Satoru out of it, and made up some story, that they had been attacked. But he didn’t. He ran away, the screams seemingly imprinted in his brain. He knew Satoru could find him if he wanted to, but he didn’t care.

Suguru had turned into an empty alleyway, clutching himself and emptying whatever remained in his stomach. He sunk down against the wall, running his hands over his face. It was all his fault.

“Satoru Gojo is henceforth deemed a special level threat.”

Suguru had cursed himself. If only he had said or did something. Of course nobody else had blamed him. Satoru had learned RCT, if it had come to a fight, Suguru likely would have lost.

As the days turned into months, turned into years, Suguru still questioned himself. What would he have done in Satoru’s position? What if he would have said yes and joined him? Could they have changed Jujutsu society forever? They were the strongest, after all.

Whenever those thoughts creeped into Suguru’s brain, he needed to take a cold shower, the shock of the water clearing his head, if only partly. He could scream, he could smash his fist against the wall of the tile, until his knuckles grew raw. He could stare, entranced by the crimson mingling with the water.

“You were smart to bring them back here, who knows what those people would have done.”

Shoko’s voice, reaffirming that he did the right thing. It took everything in his soul to stay level headed. How could people treat children like that? He wanted to slaughter them, torture them, but he couldn’t bring himself to commit such an atrocity.

The strong exist to protect the weak. With Satoru gone, and a potential enemy, Suguru needed to keep himself in check. If Satoru wanted to, he would be able to wipe out every sorcerer.

Nanako and Mimiko were instantly attached to Suguru, practically glued to his legs. They became a ray of light in his dark world. Made him cling to the small bit of hope that remained.

“There’s a teaching position open. We would love for you to take the role.”

Twenty four years old, and he became a teacher. He wonders if both Satoru and himself would have worked alongside one another. His bank of curses grows and grows. Exorcise, consume. Teach the young sorcerers how to reach their potential.

They watch in awe, as he makes the curses submit to him, spiralling into themselves, before only leaving a ball of their essence. He always walks away from them, turning his back on them. When he ingests the curses he feels his most vulnerable. The befouled taste of the curse, it causes his eyes to sting and water. He has to hold himself back from gagging, it’s like an oil spill in his mouth, leaving a stain in its wake as it travels down his throat. Satoru had been the only person he ever allowed to see him at his weakest. He would pull a sweet out of his pocket, gently placing a hand on Suguru’s back, soothing him as he retched.

And every time he had to ingest a curse, his heart ached, the memory of his best friend, creeping up on him. He swears he can feel Satoru’s hand on his back, but instead of warm and soothing, it’s icy, filled with hatred. And the dreams that come after, are always the same. Satoru’s charming smile and soft gaze turn malicious, full of hatred. Blaming Suguru for everyone who he killed.

“Yuta Okkotsu shall be executed, and the Special Grade Vengeful Spirit known as Rika, shall be exorcised.”

Suguru had fought against the higher ups, vowing to enact the execution and forcefully absorb Rika if it came down to it. How pathetic that they sit comfortably turning their noses up at things they don’t understand. Would it have been so wrong to destroy that village? Would Satoru have spared the kids life? He had been Satoru’s moral compass, and failed him when he needed him most.

Yuta amalgamated well with the other students, learning how to use Rika efficiently. Next year the school was supposed to take in another Zenin, a 10 Shadows user. Suguru wondered if Satoru would be proud of him. He didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Hey Suguru, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Suguru’s blood ran cold, that voice, he would never forget that voice. Everyone had sensed Satoru Gojo’s presence, and quickly responded, but by the time they reached him, his arm was already draped around Yuta.

Suguru had fired an army of cursed spirits at his best friend, still not trying to kill him, but begging him, willing him to leave, and save himself. Suguru fought back tears, wishing he could just take Satoru and run away, leave this life of sorcery behind.

“I came to give you time to prepare. Yuta is distantly, a member of my family. I’ll be returning on December 24th to collect him. If you don’t want casualties I would suggest handing him over willingly.”

With that, Gojo was gone. Suguru’s heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest, still beating. So many emotions coursed through his body. He practically sprinted to his quarters, collapsing in front of his toilet, vomiting until his throat was raw.

He had brushed his teeth, before stepping in the shower, this time a scalding temperature, hoping to cleanse him of his feelings. He looked at his knuckles, faint scars on them, before sending his fist flying into the wall. He didn’t even feel the pain, it didn’t help anymore, nothing would help anymore. For a brief second he debated slitting his own wrists, but what would that do? The rushing water ate the sounds of his sobs as he lay fetal position in the tub, crimson once again mixing with the clear water.

“Where is Yuta? Nobody has seen him since last night!”

Fuck. Panic. Chaos. Suguru’s hand was wrapped in bandages,having hammered it until it was bleeding every single day. He focused in on Yuta’s residuals, following him.

It didn’t take long to find them. Yuta, with the help of Rika were managing to keep Satoru at bay. Suguru would later learn that Yuta didn’t want anyone to die for his sake, so his plan was to either kill Satoru, or die trying.

Suguru had approached Yuta, clasping a hand on his shoulder. He told Yuta that was enough and to give him his sword. He would be the one to kill Satoru Gojo.

“You’re late Suguru.”

Suguru put his all into his final fight with Satoru, unleashing Uzumaki upon him, and quickly closing the distance, sword in hand.

Satoru no longer fighting back, lying crumpled in a heap on the ground. He was even smiling as Suguru stared down at him with tears in his eyes. Everything had come to this, and it was now time to depart from this world. Satoru could have won, but he made this choice. He couldn’t bring himself to kill himself after everything he had done, he just hoped Suguru had the strength to kill him.

“Any last words?”

Suguru was willing to let him depart with whatever he wished to say. But wasn’t expecting what came out of Satoru’s mouth.

“I always loved you.”

Suguru felt the blow to his soul. He should have stopped Satoru. There were so many things he wished he had done. His stomach is a pit. It felt like someone blasted a hole into him with a shotgun. He tastes bile in his mouth. His mind is reeling. He tightens his grip on the sword.

“I will always love you.”

Suguru’s final words to his best friend. In a single slash, Satoru’s head was sliced off his body. A clean cut. An honourable way to die. Suguru can’t even look at the body before turning away, and heading back to the school.

The pain only deepens. Suguru takes on riskier missions, absorbing more and more curses. His knuckles never get a chance to heal, when it’s not enough he squeezes his nails into his thighs until he draws blood.

His dreams worsen, replaying the worst moment in his life. His eyes are constantly suffering with dark circles under them. He tries to spend as much time with other people as possible. He trains, his capabilities ranking him as one of the strongest sorcerers of all time.

He would never show his suffering. Especially not towards his students. He would smile at them, ruffling their hair, laughing at their jokes. Nanako and Mimiko looked up to him as a father, and he saw them as daughters. They would brush his hair out for him, and he would relax, the sensation soothing him.

“Sukuna’s Vessel, Yuji Itadori must be executed.”

Another child he has taken under his wing. He shouldn’t have sent the Zenin boy looking for the fingers. Megumi was still green, though talented it was too highly ranked a mission. Had Suguru gone himself, he could have easily absorbed the cursed spirit that had taken possession of the finger.

Suguru trained Itadori easily, summoning weak cursed spirits at first, then gradually increasing their rank, forcing Yuji to channel his cursed energy. The kid was a quick learner and Suguru was thankful for that, as it seemed since Sukuna had awakened, there had been more cursed spirit activity.

Suguru kept getting assigned missions that put him out of the country, and during those times nothing but bad luck seemed to befall the students. Sukuna had taken over Itadori, and somehow the boy survived. The Goodwill event had went to shambles with cursed spirits attacking the students. Geto had to unleash Uzumaki once again. Cursed wombs had taken form and attacked.

Was this all from Sukuna? The cursed spirits were strong, intelligent and seemed to have motive behind what they’re doing. Nanami had fought one that he described as patch face, having the form of a human, and seemingly enjoying toying with Nanami.

“All sorcerers need to report to Shibuya Station.”

December 24th 2018

Something was wrong. Suguru was the only one able to pass through the barrier. Everyone else was instructed to work on taking it out, to allow entrance inside.

Suguru felt chills as he walked through the station. He tried to get the attention of the civilians, but they were unresponsive.

The cursed spirits ambushed him. Suguru put up a good fight, but he wasn’t willing to risk the lives of the civilians, and he was unable to use RCT. He was still standing, but he knew it wouldn’t be long until he collapsed from blood loss.

“Hey, Suguru. Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Impossible. Every memory he had involving Satoru flooded his head at that moment. He managed to turn around.

Satoru Gojo, in the flesh stood before him, stitches on his neck, and on his forehead. There was no way. Suguru had cut his head off. Even with RCT a dead body can’t heal itself. Tears once again brimmed in Suguru’s eyes.

“You’re not Satoru Gojo!”

One last act of defiance.

“What the fuck are you?”

Pulling out the stitches. A brain with a mouth. Both mouths smirking at him. Replacing the stitches.

“Satoru, are you just going to let this thing have its way with you?”

Satoru’s hand flying up to his throat, choking him. But he was laughing. Satoru’s body made a hand sign.

“Don’t worry, Suguru Geto, I won’t need his body much longer. Hollow Technique: Purple.”

Death was painless. Suguru finally felt relaxed. At peace. His soul finally freed.

“You’re late, Suguru.”

His eyes snapped open. Satoru Gojo, complete with his sunglasses reflecting light, and his smirk stood above him.

Suguru’s body moved on its own accord. He ran to his one and only friend, embracing him, his tears finally spilling. He did what he should have done ages ago, and pulled Satoru in for a kiss. Needy, passionate, broken, desperate.

When Suguru pulls away, he sees himself reflected in Satoru’s sunglasses. He’s wearing his school uniform, his hair short and in a bun. It seemed his soul took the form of when it was the happiest.

“We can’t stay.”

Satoru confirmed what Suguru had thought from the moment he arrived.

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I have always loved you. This time, I’ll get it right Satoru.”

And so they walked away, departing from each other once again.

“Suguru, should we… kill these guys? The way I am right now, I doubt I would feel anything?”

They are only sixteen.

“No. There would be no meaning to it.”

Suguru’s knuckles had been scarred as long as he could remember. They finally stopped burning.

[starrysnowdrop]

Looking Forward -> 2024

We are almost done with 2023 and what a year it’s been! Both IRL and here, there has been so many great changes this year, and there’s still so much to look forward to in 2024. Therefore, I wanted to take a little time to reflect on this past year and then talk about what I have planned for next year. Because I know I’ll be long winded as usual, I will place it under a cut.

2023: The Year of Hali

So this year was a momentous year creatively for me, as I officially switched my main WoL OC from Yume to Hali, and though I do still have a twinge of guilt for dropping Yume completely like I did, I have to admit that I’ve never been happier writing than I am right now. Hali and her story and her ship with Aymeric bring me so much joy, and I have seen how much Hali has been enjoyed by all of you, so it just tells me that I made the right decision. I have written so much more for Hali in only a year than I have for Yume in all the previous years combined. I have been practicing my gposing way more and I felt like I have grown so much as a creator, and I think it’s because I’m so genuinely happy with Hali that it makes me want to keep doing more. This little pink woman has stolen my whole heart and I am very proud of all I have done this year with her.

Now I know that the last two months have been really stressful IRL and it’s been difficult to get back into writing, but I’m not going to let it get to me. I’m hoping that starting next week after the holidays are over, my son is back in school, and we are all back to our routines that it’ll be way easier to write. Still, I’m proud of what I’ve already done and I’m so excited for what I have planned for 2024, along with my hopes for Dawntrail and for Hali and Aymeric’s future development.

2024, Dawntrail, and Beyond

I know I’m not alone in being extremely excited for Dawntrail and beginning our WoLs’ next story arc, so I already have some plans for Hali that will happen for sure, and some that might happen depending on circumstances. I also have plans for Urania x Hermes on top of everything I want to do for Hali. So let’s go over all of these briefly.

First of all, I am going to continue working on my current WIPs for Hali’s story, notably Hali and Aymeric’s first meeting, expanding on Hali and Aymeric bonding while Aymeric recovers in the infirmary (twice!), the letters they send to each other throughout SB, ShB, and Pre-EW, the love confession, and the Ishgardian Ball. I have worked on all of this interchangeably for months now and I hope to get something done soon enough. I also have a bunch of Hali lore that I have planned on discussing, notably her ancestry and where each side of her family comes from. This is a lot I know, but there’s so much that I want to write and share with you all.

Next I absolutely know that I want Aymeric to accompany Hali to Tural (The New World) for 7.0 despite it going against canon. I want Aymeric to have some time away from Ishgard and to experience an adventure with Hali. I know he can’t accompany her on adventures most of the time, but I want to be self indulgent damn it and that man needs an action-adventure vacation with his girlfriend!

That’s it for my definitive plans, but what about what I might be doing for Hali in 2024? Well, the biggest question hanging in the balance is the new casting job. It depends on if I believe the new casting job will fit Hali and make sense for her progression if I will add it to her canon jobs list. If I don’t think it’ll fit her, then I might look into the other jobs and see if there’s something I’ve overlooked that can be added instead. But there’s always the possibility that no new canon jobs are added and Hali remains an Astrologian and Dancer only. I was just looking forward to perhaps giving Hali some development of her magical abilities and learn a new job. But I will have to wait and see for Tokyo Fanfest for that!

The other thing that I’m not entirely sure if I’m doing it yet or not is a proposal! I might have Aymeric propose to Hali in 7.0 but I’m not sure if I want to do it so soon, or if it feels right doing it in 7.0. I want to experience all of 7.0’s MSQ before I decide on that. It WILL happen eventually I promise, it’s just a matter of when.

I think that’s everything for Hali, but I also have plans for Urania and Hermes! I’m wanting to write a bit of their canon story but I’m also super excited for the Modern AU I have been developing! I’m not sure yet if I will do anything with the Good Ending AU I just posted about, but it’s still a possibility. I’m also going to make them a separate section under my pinned post so there will be easy access to their lore.

Okay, I believe that’s everything. I will be getting started on all this after the new year’s celebration, and I hope to be able to share something really soon. Until then, I wish you all a Happy New Year and I hope you enjoy your holiday weekend and I wish everyone joy and inspiration in the new year! Love you all!! 🥰💖

[technologyculturedneo]

Scented Poison: Faded Fantasies. (Pt 1)

Jaemin ft Jaehyun

Words. 13k

SYNOPSIS. You're home alone, it's late at night and you're on the phone with your best friend- who's nagging you nonstop that your husband, Jung Jaehyun, is cheating on you. Overwhelmed with emotions you agree to go clubbing, whereby you open up a door to infidelity when meeting Na Jaemin. It's just supposed to be a causal encounter, yet for some reason, you find yourself underneath him starting an immoral relationship.

WARNING(s). Slow burn (a lot of thoughts, sometimes a lot of convo). Cursing (mild and soft). Smut (includes and not limited to cheating, consensual and non-consensual, rough/dominant, submissive, mind fuck, dry humping). Angst (has levels of tones).

Masterlist: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part3

Why do women cheat? Studies show that often one of three reasons can drive a woman into infidelity; one being sexually motivated to fulfil their pleasures, two being a lack of love within the relationship and three, the woman is not satisfied in the relationship.

You've always wondered, which category boxed you well. As months progressed and your affair with Jaemin grew more intensely, you slowly spiraled into a deep cycle of thought, wondering why did you start cheating? You loved Jaehyun, you still do. There was nothing wrong with your relationship, so now why were you here yet again in Jaemin's bed.

Why are you here?

"I love you so much, that it kills me seeing you with him,"

The room is pitch black dark. The only light illuminating your figures on the bed is from the open curtains of the moon light. Jaemin wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tight to him as if he feels that you might reject him. Something has changed. You can’t see him, however, you can feel that the air tonight is different. His warm nude body sipping into your own nude backside spooning you makes you feel weak and mind fucked.

How did you get here?

In his grasp…In his arms….In his warm loving hold.

“Do you love him?” His voice is just below a whisper, between raspy and breathless yet it sounds so full of anxiety as if your answer will determine his next words.

The problem is, you haven’t been talking… ever since his sudden confession, your brain has been trying to digest why you're here.

His question doesn’t make it any better, and you’re reminded that you’ve kept up this unfaithful practice for more than 7 months. That’s why, he’s so attached to you.

That’s why this suddenly feels all wrong.

His arm pulls you closer to him, as your eyes remain fixed on the open window.

Jaehyun could be home right now.

The guilt you once felt for every time that you’ve left him alone, sips into you like a painful medicine- the feeling and taste of sleeping with Jaemin and leaving your husband, has become so normal. “Do you love your husband?” Jaemin whispers into your ear again.

No seriously, how? How has this little one time thing, led up to this moment- led up to this affair of 7 months? How did you end up here again?

End up in a bed that’s not yours, but yet feels so familiar to you. End up with a man that you’ve allowed to stretch your legs wide open and dip his head in your glory hole one too many times, knowing all too well that he’s not your husband. How did you end up agreeing to letting him lap at your dripping core with such drive and thirst, knowing all too well that neither of you should be doing this? Neither of you should be craving each other. Neither of you should be lusting after each other. But here you are.

How did you end up here?

End up allowing a man you’ve hardly known to be your constant dick call and to be your escape. Night after night, either at your place or his place, as your voice moans out blissfully while you’re being riled mercilessly from behind- allowing him to grip your hair back forcing you to arch your back into his chest- where he grips his arm underneath your bouncing breast colliding your back into him so that there can be no space in between. Whispering softly into your ear, “I love you and I want you so much,”

How did you end up here?

“Do you love me?”

You snap out of your thoughts, by the new question. Thinking of how he’s been so chatty tonight. He not only confessed his love, but now he’s asking of your devotion to your husband… as well as to him. You breathe out and turn around, his arm never leaving your waist, simply adjusting as you turn to face him. His face looks different. This isn’t the face of the cocky man who prided himself about sleeping with a billionaire’s wife. This is a man who has stars in his eyes, love blinded by lust and how he wants you.

As if it can’t get worse, he’s Jaemin, the husband to your best friend.

Looking into the eyes of your best friend’s husband that you passionately fucked moments ago, you can’t believe how messy everything has gotten. It started out as a onetime thing, it turned into a constant night hook up for whenever your husband was not around- but now, after the conversations you’ve had… even you can’t deny that you’ve gotten into a deeper relationship with him.

He doesn’t seem to care about the consequences anymore as his words are true and evident in his hopeful eyes as they search your own eyes. He calls your name gently. “I want you.”

7 Months Ago… Before Jaemin.

“Where’s your hubby?” Your best friend, Haera suddenly brings your husband up. Your husband which she hates with a passion. “Where’s Jaehyun tonight?”

“At the office.”

“Fucking his secretary.” The devastating topic of adulatory makes a slight appearance and you can already tell the course and turn of this conversation.

“No. Working.” You deadpan, trying not to provoke the topic more. “Is there nothing else that you can talk about, without bringing up my husband every time you call?"

Hearing a mocking snort over the phone. "Well you've left me no choice but to bring it up each time because from my point of view- you don't have a healthy relationship."

"Oh god, what do you know about healthy relationship? Aren't you the same person who drove Haechan your ex fiancé to insanity just because he couldn't become a billionaire? Now look at him, he's the world's greatest singer song writer-"

You’re not at all surprised when she cuts you off. "Was that your cheap way in changing the subject? You know what, at least Haechan was present with me even though I bite his head off. You on the other hand are always alone. I saw your Instagram post of when you travelled to Peru. Bitch you were all by yourself while he was here freely screwing some low life skank."

Your tongue pokes your cheek in annoyance. "He's not cheating on me. I know him. And he didn't send me away to fuck some skank. His love language to me, is for me to travel the world and enjoy myself. Besides, he's working, I doubt he'd have time to screw some woman."

“I hate to bust it to you, but it’s past office hours, Friday and we both know he’s fucking his secretary.”

“Please don’t start that shit with me.” You groan breathing in silently. “He’s not sleeping with his secretary.”

"And what makes you think he isn't sleeping with his secretary?" Pulling yourself away from the phone and saving yourself from her brutality or listening to her unpleasant opinions about your husband which will occasionally drive you insane. She's always been against the reality of you getting married to Jaehyun. She chuckles. “Ah fuck, he’s definitely fucking her.”

You roll your eyes packing his dinner away in the microwave, feeling a wave of defense coating you, as you prepare to defend your husband. "He's my husband. I know he'll never cheat on me."

"He's my husband. I know he'll never cheat on me." She mimics your sentence. "You're being an idiot in always believing that. Do you even know his secretary?" She quizzes and it take everything in you to try not to burst in anger.

"I don't know his secretary and I don't need to know." You answer confidently. "I trust him. He'd never betray me."

"Honestly, vows are lies, and the confidence you have in him is very unnatural. How can you still have faith in him after all these years? You barely see him!"

Her comment ignites a little 'what if' thought... You lick your lips leaning your hand on the counter looking at the time with weary eyes. Shaking your head, you convince yourself that he’s working. "Even if I don't see him, I know him. He's my husband. He loves me. He will never betray me."

"It'll take a whole while to remove the scales from your eyes. Him sending you all around the world to these various spots, or him spoiling you with sponsored gifts is not because of love, but because he wants to fuck his secretary. And I bet you deep down in your heart, you know I'm right." Her words tap into your soul, and you try to brush away how right she is- but she doesn't make it easy when she keeps talking. "Look babes, he's not even home and you're blindly trusting him." She sighs. “It doesn’t work like that.”

You hold in your comment knowing that you can't convince her to believe in you. It’s already getting you worked up while talking about him, and it's not like you need her opinion to believe that your husband is faithful. You know he's faithful. He's never broken his promises. "Why are my words never enough for you?"

"Because frankly speaking, I know that deep down, you know he’s cheating too. You’ve been married to him for 3 years now. 3 years of him being an absent husband and not once coming back home early. You’re always alone. Being paraded with all these lavish gifts. And as your best friend I’m tired of seeing you alone. Which is why I’m outside. Open the door."

You sigh, closing the microwave and taking a slow walk to the main door.

Your conversations about Jaehyun, always start so bitter before she starts painting herself out to be the good so called caring friend.

First of all, she doesn’t know how much effort Jaehyun has put into working his ass off to reach his dreams. How could you possibly not have faith in your husband especially since all the dreams he's worked for have come true?

She thinks he’s fucking his sectary? But really, you believe that he’s working…you believe it even when it’s hard. You like to think of how far he’s come from being an orphaned poor boy, to being a hardworking young entrepreneur with belts of awards and praises in from his enterprise. With his head set on building the perfect home for you and him, you try not to lose track of his promises.

As you walk to the front door, you take a look at the ceiling adorned in white marble tiles and an elite beautifully lit chandelier that covers up graciously over the high ceiling of just the wide spaced living room. To think that Jaehyun was able to buy a mansion as part of a promise he made to you, makes you shake your head. Why would he cheat on you, when he’s so hell-bent on making sure you live in his promises?

He’s made promises to you, and he’s never broken them, so then why all of a sudden would he forsake all his dreams of you and him and cheat? You believe in him.

Even through your patience and low tolerance of your friends and best friends who doubt and mock your relationship with him, you’ve always been faithful to him. Something you’ve always wanted to believe, is that one day all their mouths will be shut when they just see how loyal Jaehyun has always been to you.

Yet, for some reason as you draw near to the high wooden double door, you can’t help but wonder…maybe they’re right…

You open up the grand door immediately catching the sparkled mini dress that Haera wears as she leans on the door. “Finally, I’ve been waiting,” She grins brightly and gets off the frame, shutting her phone off strutting in with very long heels.

"What are you doing here?" You close your own phone, wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling your mood deflate because of her causing a flicker of doubt in your head.

"I came to visit you, because I know your husband isn’t here." She kisses your cheek walking past you with her clicking stilettos making herself comfortable around your house. "Fucking his secretary on a spontaneous Friday like this, shame on him."

"He's not," You simply defend, yet unlike the fire you had before, you’re slumped. "Jaehyun isn't like that. Let's just talk about something else Haera,"

"Defending him again," Haera doesn't budge from the topic with a snort making her way up the large spiral staircase. "He’s a dumb fuck. He’s probably wondering when to dumb you.”

You clutch your jaw refraining from saying anything. Over the phone it's simple, you ignore her comments or even other times mute her or put the phone away from your ear, but face to face is the most annoying because she's live and direct and doesn’t take any of your answers as an answer.

“Fine. You wanna bitch about him? Go on.” You throw your hands up stomping down the steps, deciding not to follow her.

Hearing her clicking heels chase after you going rapidly down the steps, her hand circles your wrist instantly causing you to stop walking. “Okay fine. Let's stop talking about that fucker," she eventually repeats your words seeing that you’re unusually looking beaten down. "I didn’t come here to ruin your Friday night. In fact I was thinking we could go and hit it at that new club that just opened near my place." She chirps dragging you up the stairs and entering your room going straight to your walk in closet. "Maybe even get yourself a manaconda."

"Pardon me?" You sit on the master bed staring at her who’s all the way in the walk in closet.

She laughs. "You know what I mean, speaking of anaconda when was the last time you received your man's anaconda?"

Your lips dry up and your timidly look away shrugging your shoulders.

"Tsk. Babes you know a man has needs. If he isn't getting from you, he's obviously getting it from his assistant.”

“Haera-”

“Ohhh, you still have this dress? You need to wear it," she gets out one of your party dresses, which you haven't seen since college. “Red, tight and short. Just what you need for revenge.” Bright red leather, tight and short. She tosses it your way. "Wear that,"

"No, I'm not going clubbing with you." You shake my head not wanting to go anywhere with her. She’s the reason you’re soaked in your mood and if you have to spend anymore time with her, you’ll end up saying things out of context to start a fight and for her to leave you alone. "I'm a married woman, I can’t be going out at this time of night. Jaehyun could come any minute,"

"Look at you. He hasn’t even given you any rules, yet here you are certifying yourself as the perfect housewife. Stop being a vibe kill." Haera gets close to you. "We're going. It's not a question."

You look down at the dress shaking your head. "I shouldn’t-"

"Babes," she sighs looking sympathetic. "Look at the time. It's past fucking 10pm. When has he ever came home this early? You're hoping and praying all the time, but let me tell you- not all prayers are heard. He's probably out there, on this gorgeous Friday night, getting it on with some low life whore. Eating her out, pressing her tits to his face and pleasuring her instead of you. Which is not understandable because you're too fucking good for him. Your fine behind shouldn’t even be with him. You're too sexy to be with him. I've stuck with you thick and thin but I hate seeing you alone, in this marriage. Just go out with me, just for tonight. For once in your hell bound marriage, can you please go out with me? Enjoy your life too. What are you gonna do if indeed he's been cheating on you? You need to enjoy too. Come on,"

Jaehyun walks out the double glass doors of his office with his laptop bag at hand and other hand un-buttoning the first 3 buttons of his shirt. Stepping into the dimly lit hallway passing the floor security who locks up after him. "Have a goodnight sir." Without answering, Jaehyun wonders to himself if it’s normal that he as the CEO leaves last, while his employees leave early.

It’s as if he’s the only one taking his work seriously. As the mental note gets in his head, he turns back in his tracks walking along the path back to his office, but to a little cubic office where his secretary who’s always in is. She’s hastily packing up her own bag, but stops upon seeing Jaehyun. “Yes sir?”

"Remind me to set a board meeting with all divisions this, Sunday, notify this to me tomorrow."

"Yes sir." She nods her head quickly jotting it down on her notepad. "Meeting name sir?"

"Make the title; Time. I'll recall the details.”

"Yes sir." She continues packing up again. Jaehyun turns around continuing with his path towards the elevator. He holds the elevator door open once he's inside, continuing to search through various articles on his phone while waiting.

His secretary upon making her turn into the hall way notices the elevator door opened. Immediately seeing her boss, she frantically hurries barely holding onto her bag and multiple of binders.

“Sorry for making you wait sir. Did you need anything?”

"You didn't have to run. I held it open." He hardly glances up, but removes his hand once she’s inside. It falls upon her understanding that Jaehyun was waiting for her.

"Thank you sir, sorry sir." She bows lowly.

His secretary, Chae-won, skillfully fixes up her bag and sets herself in order trying to look professional before her boss. His scent is broad yet has a sweet and masculine fragrance of their most recent perfume collection: Dive. His scent makes her feel makes her feel beneath him. This would be the first time being alone with him in the elevator without any context.

Aside from her being his secretary for a year and some months she’s never informally spoken to her boss. She’s always found him to be quit a workaholic beast and openly strict director, yet underneath it all her eyes always saw him as someone who she could possibly be close with- non romantically. So taking the long elevator ride from the 40th floor all the way down to the ground floor as an opportunity, she briefly smiles. On most days, she'd leave before him once the time reached 23:00 as he'd still be enclosed in his office till late sometimes even early mornings. Tonight however is a first, the first time he finished early…if she considers 22:00 early.

She gathers all her courage to open up her mouth. From the day she began working in the company as intern to a junior assistant in HR, to going up the ranks of being an assistant to most of the managers in each division and finally working as the first hand secretary of the Director Jung Jaehyun himself. It's been her long term goal, to work for the boss as it paid higher. She knew nothing about him and most times was even afraid of him even if he did nothing.

From his cold stare to his stoic voice, he was and still is intimidating. Not approachable. But tonight, on this long elevator ride with him it would be an ice breaking moment to finally speak to her boss. Especially since he was kind enough to hold the door open for her.

"Sir. May I ask you a question?"

"Depends." Is his answer as he barely looks at her.

Her heart gets giddy and she tries to let out the question. "Tonight you've finished quite early than most of the other nights. Is there something else you have to attend to? I checked your schedule and there's nothing booked for right now."

Jaehyun keeps his gaze on his phone, still reading the article about his latest release of the new fragrance collection of his perfume brand. One thing he has always hated is how his employees mixed work with their personal life. These employees would often always feel the need to catch people up on what's been happening in their life rather than focusing on the reason they came to work. Jaehyun is never one for small talk or polite conversation, so as his secretary anticipates an answer from him he simply shuts his phone placing it in his pocket before he brings his wrist up forward checking the time.

Right on time, she gets the message quickly bowing her head. She retreats backwards turning red from his lack of interest. "Forgive me."

He closes his eyes contemplating in his head about how work ended 4 hours ago and how he didn't have to be cold towards the young assistant. They were on floor number 39 and approximately 11 minutes to get down to the main floor.

"I want to get home early for a change. To surprise my wife." He answers deliberately after a couple of minutes.

Chae-won’s ears perk up by his answer and a part of her coils in happiness for his acknowledgment to her question. "Wife? Wow I didn't know. I thought all millionaire’s were bachelor's," she takes her time to reply to his answer. "That would be a nice surprise though, considering you're always in the office and never at home- I mean I think you do go home but like–"

"Do you have a significant other?" He asks reluctantly avoiding the rambling she seemed to have gotten herself in.

"No sir. I'm always working. Even if I did have a partner, I doubt that'd I'd have time for him." She answers halfheartedly trying not ramble on again. "Work is more important to me right now."

He briefly turns to her his eyes going down her being. "You're young and smart, I'm sure you can try to settle down for another type of happiness instead of work."

"That's easy for you to say sir because you're already married." She smiles, feeling heated by his eyes over her figure for a split second. "The rest of us aren't so lucky. If your wife can tolerate you working till late, she's generous. Most guys wouldn't want their girlfriends out this late, I don’t even think I’d trust my partner to be out this late in the name of work,"

"You're right about that." Jaehyun says, his thoughts diverting to you for a second. How do you even tolerate living without him? "Why do you stay till this time?" Jaehyun shakes his head.

She embarrassingly looks down. "I work better here than at home,"

"Same," he nods his head. "I wish most of the people that worked here had the same view,"

The music blasts a song that has all the drunks on the floor dancing their weak bodies out. You try and squeeze yourself towards a corner that’s hardly cramped- of course there’s a hot and needy couple barely getting air as they practically undress each other in public. You distastefully look away and squeeze yourself through hard and heavy bodies of sweaty drunk mindless dancers. There’s a reason you hate parties and clubs, mainly because of the people who always got too drunk before anything began and would literally suck the fun out of a lot of things. For example, this guy who keeps on following you and won’t accept no for an answer until you shamelessly hit his wagging bulge when he forcefully corners you. You rapidly try to escape but you’re caught in another encounter with Haera.

“Haera, I don’t like it here. Can we go?” You knew it was a bad idea the moment you walked in. You don’t even know what pushed you to stay, but right now more than anything, you desperately want to leave.

"Let loose Y/n~ He’s doing the same with a low life whore." Haera giggles being those people who are drunk out of their minds laughing at everything and seeing triples. She leaves your side again and mingles her way through bodies of people dancing to the ear piercing bass and setting her ass up onto some guy and unashamedly grinds on him.

With my dress being shorter then hers, I’m not about to join her on the dance floor knowing that I’ll be groped the way she is. Not only from the guy she’s relieving herself from, but from other pervs who dance in front of her getting their hands all the way underneath her dress. You groan and make your way to the very side of the bar where drinks are being served.

You pant out the moment you’re out the heavy deluded crowd. You move closer to the bar and sit on one of the none occupied stools trying not to roll your eyes. It’s barely been an hour, but you hate it. You should be at home right now, sleeping or even waiting up for Jaehyun.

You catch sight of Haera again as she’s somehow now dry humping the man behind as well as the man in front of her. “How the hell?” You shake your head.

"Your friend there is pretty wild huh," You turn your head around meeting a man who’s slightly leaning over the bar to speak a bit louder to get your attention. In his white shirt, with a name tag on his buttoned shirt, as well as black apron over his waist, along with a dishrack wiping a glass- you can tell that he’s a bartender.

"Yeah." You give him a tight lipped smile looking back to Haera, but the bartender continues none the less.

"This is your first time here right?" He asks and you nod your head. “How’re you liking it?"

You try not to sigh aloud by his unwanted presence and briefly look at him. "It’s nice." You answer with a little smile looking away trying to get him off your back.

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” He pulls a little smirk when you glance at him.

Getting up from the stool being done with this conversation- you attempt to leave.

"At least have a drink sweetheart. I’ve heard that you love strawberries. Try this one, with a pint of wine,"

You turn back to him with your eyes confused. Where did her hear that from? He places the strawberry drink right in front of you and you look right back into his eyes. "Sweetheart?"

"Do you prefer being called something sexy? ‘Cause you are a dime and I’d like to respect that," he winks leaning closer. "Strawberry Cocktail. For you,"

Your eyes glance at the drink, your eyes batter to him. "Are you trying to poison me?"

He snickers, his tongue poking his cheek as his eyes go over your figure slowly. “It’s not poison. Why would I want to drug you, you’re too beautiful,”

“That’s a reason why you’d even drug me. To take advantage of me,”

"If I wanted to take advantage of you, I would." The man chuckles lowly looking down for a brief second before peeking into your eyes- that’s losing interest and turning around to look for Haera. “But this is a celebratory drink. I should be celebrating with you," he cocks his brow up, his eyes peering into your own when you look back raising your eyebrow. "I'm finally meeting my wife's best friend,"

"Wife?" You take a second to look at the man. He's got black messy yet lightly curled tossed hair and lively eyes, a seemingly toned body and a tough yet soft facial structure. You tilt your head to the side thinking of the re-bound man that Haera has hid from you ever since her ex left her on her own. This must be the new one. "Jaemin? You're Jaemin?"

"That's a relief," he chuckles showing off his amazing smile. "You know my name,"

You awkwardly chuckle, what an odd place to meet your best friend’s rebound husband. Taking a seat again feeling slightly comfortable when ‘knowing’ somebody other than your drunk best friend. Being polite you bring the little red straw towards your lips. You take your time to examine him, wondering why Haera would hide this man. He looks really good and this drink is mastered to perfection. He’s eye candy, easy on the eyes, and seems interesting taking away the fact that he’s not some creepy guy looking for conversation.

“I’m guessing you don’t know much about me other than my name,”

"I'm sorry.” You tilt your head smiling a little, when you’re caught eyeing him. All you know about him, is that he’s a rebound from her ex-husband- and that’s not something you can go around saying. You lick your lips a little, speaking a little louder over the music. “She's always hid you. Only mentioned your name. Nothing else,"

"That's a shame." He cleans his hands leaning on the counter just as you draw closer to hear him. You ignore his eyes that go down on your cleavage for a spilt second before he leans in closer to speak. "She talks about you all the time though,"

You nod your head. "Good things I hope,"

“Not necessarily, but you can tell it’s coming from a good place. She cares, but she mentions that…” He bites his lip smiling, his eyes going over your body. "Your man doesn't 'do you right'. Which I think is a shame considering you’re gorgeous, "

Your smile slowly deflates and you look away from him. Of course she’d yap her mouth. "So you work in this club?” You completely dodge.

He chuckles lightly. “I actually own this place,”

Your eyes slightly widen being impressed. “This is your club? Then you must make a lot of money from all this,” You motion to the crowd that’s pumped in sweat and rubbing against each other… including his wife.

"You’d be surprised that I actually don’t make a lot from this mess, and don't worry about her." He shrugs it off. “I may be her husband, but I don’t think any of us take our relationship seriously…” His eyes travel down your body again for a second. Maybe from his wondering eyes, or the fact that he freely checked you out makes you feel hot.

"She's just drunk.” You try to defend clearing your throat and looking away.

"And angry.” He mumbles, but turns back to you. “The reason she doesn't speak about me, might be because I'm kind of a mess. Not rich and fancy like yourself and her other friends, in other words not presentable in your type of world. But I am good looking to her, which is why we sorta tied the knot. A rebound for a rebound. So this is her way of pretending we don’t know each other outside," he tosses a white length cloth over his shoulder. "Back to you, you didn't answer my question,"

"You didn't ask anything," You place your hand over the edge of the wine glass and tip it into your mouth. Jaemin’s confession making you feel sympathy for him.

He smirks. "Is your husband-"

"He's not cheating on me, if that's what you're thinking." You give him a stern look, but he ducks his head underneath the table- and just before you know it, he’s over the high platform getting next to you by nearly a second completely shocking me. "Uh..."

"It's hard having to yell when I can just say the words in your ear." He merely smiles before leaning in, his cologne briefly washing over you, making your nose subtly breathe him before you control yourself. He smells good. All of a sudden, your attention goes off his smell, to the warmth he brings to your ear. "And, I wasn't thinking that of your husband,"

Your breath wobbles upon hearing his husky voice whispering into your ear. He leans back slightly, just as his finger startles you when he brushes the side of your hair lightly.

“You smell good,” He lets out.

So do you. You fight the words back. You find yourself exhaling slowly, suddenly aware of how you held your breath in to smell his scent. His proximity and scent causing you to lean in to pay attention to him.

“I was just wondering, if he knows that you’re out right now,"

“He doesn’t,” You shake your head, your eyes following his other veiny finger slightly touching his own lip.

“Then let yourself go,” He says briefly, a naughty smile passing through his mouth. “It’s why I named my club, Faded Fantasies. Everything you do tonight, you do it as if you will never think of it again, as if you’ll never have this moment again. Tonight, will be a faded memory tomorrow. So, relax yourself. You’re so tense, let your fantasies run wild pretty lady.”

His finger startles you again, when it swiftly brushes your hair over your shoulder allowing himself the luxury of smoothly and cautiously feeling your skin.

“It’s more fun when you can’t read my thoughts,” His words, are more to himself then to you, and he keeps his tone down so that you can’t hear him. “I want you,” He smiles, his eyes twinkling with lust.

You don’t stop him when his finger slides over your arm creating little invisible circles. Instead, you breathe in lightly and keep your eyes on him. He then smiles in your direction, walking closer to you before disappearing behind you. You’re tempted to turn your head back to look for him, yet when his hands get a firm grip over your shoulders, you jerk lightly. Before calming down. Even though he’s behind you, seemingly massaging your shoulders, you don’t stop him. In fact, you sink into his arms rolling your head to the side.

The feel of his hands, someone’s hands on your tense body has you feeling heated. When was the last time you were held. “You’ve got tension on your shoulders. You must be stressed,” He states whispering into your ear. “I’ll help you out. Usually to get tension off your body, you’d need a good fuck…” His words fade and you gulp. “Do you feel me?”

You find yourself nodding, breathing out. Your back is close to him. His hands go over your bare shoulders, his fingers sinking into the softness of your skin. A little moan leaves your throat as you arch your back by his dominant moves. He squeezes your skin, your skin that feels like dough in his hands. He doesn’t only aid your shoulders, but his hands sink over your spine, going down and getting lower roaming your curves briefly. You don’t stop him, when they dangerously slide down your chest, before regaining their position over your neck. Your throat lets out another moan, and you’re grateful for the loud music blocking out your dirty moans.

His hands feel so… He doesn’t stop inflicting his hard yet relaxing hands all over your shoulders, neck and spine.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” He leans in breathing softly into your ear.

Your eyes lightly flatter open and you fidget a little in your seat, but his hand runs up your spine again, allowing his hand to feel your warm heated skin. You don’t know why you’re not stopping him. Maybe because you really want it to be a faded fantasy. You don’t know why you’re letting him touch you too. He just witnessed his wife adamantly dry humping two men, and now he’s touching you. You can’t control yourself, struggling for what to say as his hands still take you closer, his hands dangerously getting in your clothes to get a feel of your skin. If you could, you would take your clothes off to feel his hands. It’s been a while… since you’ve had a craving. A craving to remove your clothes… thank goodness he can’t read your mind.

“Does it feel good?” In your silence that’s deep in thought, your body tingles when his hands go down your chest gently grabbing at your breasts, giving them a brief squeeze- a moan leaving your parted mouth and your eyes rolling back as you lean into him. “You like that don’t you?”

You’ve got dirty wishes in your mind. How your senses are tingling at his touch has you squeezing your legs and rolling your eyes shut, your hands gripping onto your seat when he repeats his motion of going down your chest grabbing your breasts and squeezing them carefully. He moves back up to your neck, trailing your collarbone before squeezing again.

He seems to know about your husband, but he’s not stopping himself. Going as far as you feeling heat on your shoulder before his lips moistly meet your neck causing you to tilt your head, allowing him more access. You shut your eyes biting your lip. “Stop me...” He whispers. “If I’m going fast,”

You gulp. Not stopping him.

He repeats his words, this time his lips leaving a peck over your ear. “Why aren’t you stopping me?” He chuckles lowly, making your core shiver.

You slightly turn your head to him, your eyes shy to look into his eyes, afraid he might see what you’re trying to hide. “Can I blame the drink? Or the name of your club?”

He chuckles, his tongue licking up your ear slightly. “Or maybe you want me, don’t you? You want to feel me in you...” His tongue licks the outer rim of your ear. Your breathing hitches and you squirm a little.

You don’t say anything. His words, creating a vague imagery of yourself being on Jaehyun’s shaft. And that was a really long time ago. Suddenly, he leans his head over your shoulder.

"Your nipples are reacting." He whispers. You peek down and bite your lip clearing your throat.

“It’s your fault,” Your body moves forward, as all the talking snaps you back into your thoughts and out of fantasy land. You gulp, and finish the rest of your drink, shaking your head.

He has a smug look on his face and all you can think about is how great his voice sounds. He pushes the stool he's sitting on closer carefully looking back to his wife, who's now passed out on one of the couches as heavily intoxicated people dance around her.

"Let’s settle for tonight," he focuses back to you, turning your chair around so that you’re facing him. "You want it?"

"You should take Haera home. She's out completely." You swallow your dry throat, considering his settlement…yet not entirely. Not believing how hot and bothered you’re feeling, you look into this large eager eyes filled with lust as they go over your body again.

"You should come with," he smiles. "I wouldn't want you to be all alone here. Or alone without your husband." His hand rests on your thigh, feeling on your skin before sinking his fingers into your pressed legs drawing circles.

“How about one more drink, and then I'll think about it,"

"How about, I make it heavy. Heavy enough to drown your senses," He smirks, biting his lip. “Welcome to Faded Fantasies,”

Jaehyun quietly finishes up his dinner that was in the microwave. Usually when he’d come back home late, he’d feel bad that you’d spend your time cooking only to place it in the microwave for him. Washing up his dishes, and leaving the kitchen clean the way he found it, he turns off the light making everywhere dark. He’s quick in navigating himself using the dim light from the living room up the spiral staircase, before heading off to his room.

He sighs seeing the bed empty.

You’re always in bed sleeping deeply whenever he’d arrive home. He’d cuddle with your sleepy body, keeping you close to him and pray that he hadn’t made you want to leave him.

Tonight feels a bit strange and scary. You not being home is unsettling for him. He tries not to panic when adjusting himself on the massive bed, instead he picks up his phone and attempts to call you again. Where could you be?

Perhaps you went out for a bit and would return soon.

"Hey honey. It's me again." He sighs letting his phone be on speaker. "Please call me," he cuts the voice note adjusting himself on the bed until- that’s until his phone rings a moment later again and he sees your caller ID.

"H-hey honey." He hears your flustered voice over the speaker. "A-are ah you home? Mh,"

"Yes love, I'm home.” Jaehyun’s smile enlightens upon hearing your voice. It’s really been a while, since he’s heard you speak. “Where are you?"

A lot of shuffling is heard from your end and Jaehyun wonders where you are. "I'm… I'm… I'm with… Ah. With uh, Hy- Haera. I'm… I didn't t-think you'd come home, mh. I'm sorry. I… I…" you breathe heavily and squeak.

"Baby are you okay?"

You let out heavy pants before your shaky voice rushes off to cut the call. "Sorry Jae, I need to go, your food is in the microwave. G-goodnight. I’m sorry ah-"

And just like that the call cuts. Jaehyun tries to understand what your no good of a best friend dragged you into this time before he sighs. "So much for surprises,"

Meanwhile a moment before your phone rang, in Jaemin and Haera's residence, Haera is passed out drunk on her own bed sleeping out her high. While Jaemin entertains, you, in one of the extra rooms.

He thrusts faster and harder inside of you pounding you restlessly onto the dashboard of the bed. “You’re so tight,” Your eyes firmly shut and your legs hanging on his shoulders shake just as his hands hold onto your bouncing breasts. You moan out when Jaemin hits deep into your core- causing you to moan aloud, before covering your mouth. “You like that,” He chuckles, this time holding onto the headboard as he thrusts harder into your tight core that warmly invites him.

You squirm and whine out of breath. “So good-”

“You want it harder?” Jaemin chortles. “Bet you’ve never had it like this,”

You can’t help, or even hold in the moans that escape your mouth. You lean on your elbows, your eyes still screwed shut as Jaemin screws himself into you, loving the wholesome look of exhilaration mixed with pleasure. “Harder,” You throw your head back mumbling, as you feel tingles of sensation shoot up your whole body. Your shaking legs make you feel blind as you can’t keep your eyes open, biting onto your lip to stop your loud moaning. Jaemin’s chuckle, and the continuous squeaks of the bed turn you into a sex drunkard.

“Feels good right sweetheart?”

You moan in approval, when he suddenly closes into your body, laying his chest into yours as he holds onto your head digging deeper into you, causing you to moan out loud breaking your lip bite and allowing Jaemin to stick his mouth over yours. Feeling his hard, rough cock rocking into you mercilessly makes you wonder if this is even allowed.

"Your phone's ringing sweetheart," Jaemin breathlessly whispers into your ear, loving the erotic look on your face. You were really beautiful, even more than your pictures with Haera. He grabs onto your hands getting them in his hold, as he dives in and places his head next to yours breathing with you, matching his quickening thrusting pace. “Fuck,” He grunts when going faster, moving faster causing the beds to squeak to become brassier. “Fuck. Ah.” Jaemin moans when your quenching core gets tighter around his thick dick. Your moans edge him on, you’re getting louder, but try to control yourself- only setting Jaemin into your edging.

Jaemin’s concentration doesn’t wither, but when he hears your phone ringing again he smirks. Your husband’s calling. Sweat dripping down his back, from how steamy you are. You’re a whole milf. “Your phone’s ringing, sweetheart,”

You try to reach for your phone but the amount of pleasure residing throughout your whole body prevents you from doing so. He laughs biting his lip going faster and faster, only loving the look of pure innocence mixed with pleasure from your equally sweaty face. You’re so hot.

He spreads your legs wider now holding onto each leg, causing you to free out a loud moan before hastily covering up. Jaemin takes her hand away dropping one of your legs. Still thrashing hard and faster into you, he chuckles. "Haera's a heavy sleeper. Let me hear you once again, fuck you’re hot," And with that he lifts you up getting off the bed so he can stand and bounce you hard on himself, making you go crazy with whimpers of pleasure as you bury your head on his neck shaking as he pounds into you. "Call him back,"

You pant out holding tightly onto him when he bursts deeply into you and you cum at the same time vibrating on him, being eluded with pleasure. He puts you down facing you down on the bed. You pant out, your eyes adjusting to the room again before you pick up your phone dialing back the number that called.

As soon as Jaehyun picks up Jaemin uses his fingers to wedge deeply into your pussy, playing with your juices making you tightly seal your lips. "H-hey honey," your hands squeeze the sheets. "A-are ah you home? Mh," Jaemin, smirks when the quenching sounds come from your pussy.

“So hot,” He laughs and adds his second finger inside, rapidly thrashing into you. Your free hand grabs onto his shoulder as you squeeze him trying to pay attention to your conversation with Jaehyun, yet not even your brain is focused on him. “I bet he fucks you slowly. Fuck, but he should know that you like it rough and hard,” Jaemin grunts busting his hips at an unbelievable speed causing you to ramble on a departing message before hanging up and throwing your head back arching your back to feel the sensation swarm all over your body.

"What did we just do?” Your lips tremble, your eyes on the dark ceiling.

Jaemin rests his sweaty head on your chest kissing your neck. "We had sex."

Your head fills blank as only air leaves your mouth. “Sex?” Even if you want it to be a fantasy, you know it can’t. It was real. Your best friend’s husband had his whole dick into your dripping core. “We had sex?” Your lips become dry and they tremble, just as you shut your eyes the tears brimming.

"You had something, that your lover couldn’t give you in years," Jaemin quietly says planting kisses on your shoulder. "If what Haera says about your man is true, that he's sleeping with some other woman, then this is should just be a reward for you.”

"What about Haera?" You ask quietly, your head numb from this distorted wrong reality. "I'm supposed to be her best friend."

He shrugs his shoulders as if not caring. You bite your lip, feeling Jaemin’s damp head resting again against your chest, cuddling you like a baby. “You were so good,”

Even as Jaemin's whispering in your ear all you can truly focus on is that for the first time in a long time, your husband has come home earlier than usual, and you’re not even there. You can't believe that he's home in bed…alone while you are here in a heated room, on another bed with another man.

"Relax sweetheart," Jaemin speaks. "Why don't you tell me about your husband?"

Exhaling with a shaky breath you can't help but try to relax. "My husband?"

"Yes," Jaemin nods his head, his hand finding your boob and squeezing onto it like some form of stress ball. "What's he like?"

You breathe out shaking your head in disbelief of your actions. "For starters, he is remarkably intelligent. Not just in his own field, but broadly he's very intellectual and knows a lot of things." You wonder what he'd think of you cheating. "He'd be so hurt by what I've just done,"

"You did nothing wrong." Jaemin assures you. "The only thing you should be held accountable for, is how good you made me feel,"

You laugh slightly looking at Jaemin with disbelief. Why is he so relaxed for cheating on Haera? "You cheated too,"

"And I don't regret it," Jaemin draws closer to you, his lips on your neck. "Because you're too sexy for a quote on quote smart man. A smart man who let's you spend Friday night alone, is a dumb man,"

Jaemin get's on top of you again, directly trying to find your sweat spot.

The next morning you manage to scramble out of the bed that you laid on with Haera’s husband and quickly get out of their house before any of them wake up. Which was an extreme sport since your legs felt so weak and unable to move. The insides of your thighs and mid abdomen undeniably ached from the pleasure of last night. You could’ve stayed and faced Haera, but after sleeping with her husband, you don’t think that you can face her again. You don’t think you can face her at all.

You call an Uber in order to get back home and the whole ride back is spent with you trying to repent for your actions. It was a once off thing. It'll never ever happen again. You love Jaehyun more then much and your not confused at all. Last night was just a whole swerve of peer pressuring emotions, craving sexual pleasure that you haven't received in such a long time. Even though it doesn't sound right at all, you’ve reclaimed to yourself that you’ll never (ever) do that again with Jaemin…

Jaehyun is a passionate lover and from what you last remember he always made sure that you were satisfied first before himself, which for you always made you feel special and sacred to him. Jaemin on the other hand was head on hardcore and always on top, he enforced that pleasure into you. You’re even afraid to admit it but he tried different positions on you that you’ve enjoyed very much…and would like to do it again- BUT ONLY, only with Jaehyun, you remind yourself. Even if it means you’ll have to be waiting for a very long time. Unaware of your own body language, your body slumps when thinking that you’ll truly never have what you had with Jaemin again. But aside from that, Jaemin is rough, something and someone that you’ve never had before, and compared to Jaehyun, you preferred Jaehyun’s soft sex then Jaemin doing as he pleased with you. Which is one of the many reasons why you’ll never do it again.

When the Uber driver finally reaches the complex of mansions, you have to guide and lead him to find your home. You can hear the low gasp which comes from his mouth when seeing your home. Whereby your husband for the first time, has slept alone. Even though you hardly see him when he comes home, you always feel his presence later on when he does eventually pitch up. He'll wrap his arm around you securing you in his arms and in the morning around 4am, he’d get off to start getting ready for work and just before he leaves at 5:30 he kisses your forehead. He did that always. Of course there are those other nights when he doesn’t come home at all, but still, you don’t have a doubt in your mind about him. The fact that you’d feel his presence every night assured you somehow. However, yesterday night was different. He was alone and you didn't get to feel him cuddle with you or even receive his good morning and good bye kiss on your forehead. What you got instead was your best friend's husband laying his head on your chest and rubbing his hand up and down your curves. Making you feel so dirty for doing what you did.

Before leaving the Uber you make sure to ask the time, 10:30 am. You wonder when Haera and her husband will wake up. In thinking of Haera, you still can't believe yourself for what you did. Your legs feel a bit tender to movement but you make your way up the long flight of stairs before reaching the grand door. You open up the door with your key being grateful for finally reaching home.

You walk through the bright living room and enter the kitchen opening the microwave first to check if Jaehyun ate his food. Which he did and you’re pleased. You’ve always not liked leaving his food in the microwave because you liked serving him, but slowly as heavy nights became him staying at work and he wasn't around you grew more accustomed to leaving bowls of food in the microwave instead. You drink two full glasses of water nearly choking on the last drink when feeling a hand on your arm- you end up screaming rapidly turning around.

"No, no no- shhh shhh shhh shhh. Baby it's only me! It's me!" Jaehyun, with a concerned grin and chuckle, quickly comes forward reaching out for your hands pulling you closer to him. He begins smiling bobbing your nose. "Hey, it's just me," he smiles looking down into your eyes, his eyes gleaming with such tender love and excitement.

You hold your chest laughing. "Oh goodness,"

"Sorry for scaring you, I didn't intend on you chocking."

You slightly chuckle, your eyes falling all over his features, your hand reaching for his jaw as the smile turns into a guilty smile. Feeling guilty all over again when you look into his adorable eyes, your nose smelling his well-known fragrance that made his scent so sexy. You clear your throat being confused when your hand drops from his face. "I'm sorry too, I wasn't aware that you were in. I thought you'd be at work, it's nearly 11. What's wrong? Are you okay?" You quickly ask noticing he's in his usual work clothes of black buttoned up long sleeved shirt and fitting black pants with his black polished slacks.

"Nothing's wrong," he shakes his head gently smiling. Your eyes water a little seeing him. "I missed your presence exceedingly that it made leaving hard."

Your eyes search through his and you feel nothing but the purest affection from him. He wanted to see you before he left. "But won't you be late for work?"

"They live for days like these whereby I'm not in the office. I guarantee you no work is being done as we speak," he jokes and you smile.

"Does that mean you'd have to go?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Come here," You move into his arms with slight difficulty from your legs before laying your head on his warm chest cherishing his embrace over your whole body. How could you cheat on him? How? You sniff immediately getting his attention. "Honey, what's wrong, are your legs in pain? Lower limb perhaps? You were limping when walking in,"

"My legs hurt a little but it's okay," You divert the attention away from your eyes afraid he might see you in your impurities.

"Party night with Haera right? You get your money's worth," swiftly he carries you in his arms bridal style surprising you more than ever. "Your outfit however, very sexy,"

You force out a chuckle, your eyes looking after his features caressing his face to make sure he’s real, because last night as you remembered that it was this same ‘sexy’ dress that led you to be tempted when Jaemin slid his fingers up your thigh entering straight in between my legs firmly flickering his finger. Why did you even let him in?

You lay your head against Jaehyun's shoulders trying your hardest not to think of your best friend's husband.

Jaehyun gently lays you on the bed adjusting the blanket for you. He sits on the side rubbing your head gently leaving a kiss on your forehead. You look up into his eyes and only the purest halo forms around him making you so lucky to have him. "Thanks for waiting for me,"

"One of these days, I'll be here with you and not out at work. Have you all to myself and enjoy your presence," he whispers close enough to you kissing you on the lips and you sweetly savor his taste creeping your hands around him brining him in closer allowing the heart flattering kiss to rise slowly until he breaks it up with his teeth pulling gently on your lip. "I have to go to work, I'm sorry."

"No it's okay," You smile allowing him to move back but quickly hold onto his hand again. "Did you really come home early yesterday night?"

"Not that early but early from the usual time I get home," He nods his head eagerly. "A failed surprise, yet it prompts me to set up a pre notice of my arrival. None the less, it gave me insight that your nights aren't as boring, unlike mine." He smiles lightheartedly. If only he knew the reality.

"You wanted to surprise me," You smile with so much admiration from you eyes, the glint of treachery looming over you. "If anything, I should've told you I wouldn't be in, but you don’t have to worry about informing me,” You’re never going out late with Haera again.

"I love you babe," he comes closer again kissing your lips but the moment is interrupted when his phone rings. "I really have to go baby. I'm sorry,"

The moment had come to finally shut Haera up, but instead of seizing the moment you ended up leaving it and falling into temptation, making everything bad. But it's okay, because it was a onetime thing. Never again.

Chae-won's beeper beeps the moment it reaches her lunch break time. She picks up her wallet and key pass before getting up from her seat. Her friend would already be waiting downstairs for her, since he worked on the 30th floor with the rest of his department while she worked on the top floor with the boss and all the other managers.

She gently presses the buzzer on her desk speaking into the microphone. "Sir may I enter your office?"

It takes a while for him to reply and she glances through the glass walls seeing him hunched over writing something before pulling up a sheet reading it. But soon enough his voice rings from behind the closed door. "Enter."

Right. She quickly makes her way to the door opening it up stepping in but remaining close to the door. His office (hands down) has the best view in the whole building. Since he's at the top of the building there's a very wide view of the whole city from the top to bottom glass wall that showed the outside. His whole office in fact is just made of heavy see through glass that from the outside shines brightly as well. He's also got the perfect amount of sunlight that shines by another layer in his office where he can lounge or just read peacefully.

Her eyes turn to him seeing him circling and highlighting, writing down some notes as well as reading over some other documents. He's always working so hard and never ever takes a break. She can't blame him though, the firm is on its way to hitting the one billion mark. She too, if she knew what to do, would be working hard.

"If you're going to continue harboring the door with your presence, you might as well stand outside with the door closed. Or better yet if you're not going to talk you may leave and close the door behind you." His voice is low and his eyes never once leave the papers in front of him, but still the intimidating persona leaves the whole room in a trembling silence.

"Sorry sir. It's lunch break and I-"

He sighs still not focusing on her presence. "Hadn't I informed you to never inform me of lunch and break? Leave."

"No sir. I wanted to… invite you…for lunch and break." Her face stings and tries to hide the embarrassment she's feeling. Why did she even think it’d be good idea to do this?

He stops writing and looks up from his paperwork. His eyes sharpen to hers and she silences herself stepping closer to the exit.

"Since when do you barge into my office being so casual? Not to mention your absurd audacity to defy me. Leave."

"I did- didn't b-barge in sir. Thought th-that yesterday, we got on a better foot-" at every word that leaves her mouth his eyes get narrower frightening her so much. "Maybe you wanted lunch I thought."

It's silent when she finishes proposing her idea and by the looks of his glare he doesn't seem like he'd reply anytime soon.

She looks around his clear bright office before turning back to his narrowed eyes and takes the decision to leave. She closes the door rapidly behind her and walks down the corridor hastily wishing to wash away her humiliation. She turns her head a little to see if he'd gone back to work but instead his eyes could still be seen through the glass wall and the glare felt so strong like it would break the whole building. She hurriedly runs towards the elevator turning corners to go down the stairs instead. He was still watching her!

Jaehyun watches her running away, shaking his head. "Lunch break,"

"I swear it's like he killed me already with his eyes." Chae-won hangs her head in shame matching the same pace as her work colleague, Mark. Which was impossible because Mark's legs were long as hell. "I left the room already too humiliated to even wait minutes longer for his reply. He did not even look like he would reply. He glared at me until I left his office and ran away."

Mark bursts out laughing hard hitting her shoulder not believing what she said. "You left his office running?"

"Literally. I used the stairs,"

After calming down from his high laugh he wipes his tears resting his arm around her protectively. "You my friend, definitely have the hardest job."

"Tell me about it,"

"But don't worry, maybe he's just sex deprived. All businessmen are. If they don't get it at home then possibly they want it elsewhere, maybe he likes you-"

"See! This guy agrees with me and he doesn't know me!" A random woman suddenly bursts out pointing towards Mark capturing both attention of the workers. "Hi I'm Haera and this is my friend Y/n. I'm sorry for interrupting your conversation but can I just say how right you are?"

"Oh goodness. Haera you don't do that." You scold Haera before turning to Mark and Chae-won. "So sorry for that. She's inappropriate like that."

"No worries," Mark smiles shaking it off. These women where stunning, Mark notes. "No worries. It's nice being recognized even from complete strangers. Are you guys out for lunch?"

Haera smiles and looks to you. "We're just walking around,"

"Would you like to join us?" Mark asks displaying his friendly smile.

Haera smiles. "Why yes don't mind us-"

"No, we possibly couldn't. We've already interrupted you, I'm so sorry for her behavior." You cut in but Mark shakes his head.

"I insist. I'll even pay," Mark takes charge again. "You don't mind Chae-won, right?"

"I honestly don't mind." Chae-won says. "I need all the distraction I can get from what just happened at work with my boss."

"But see Chae-won, I like the conversation about our boss that's why I'm inviting these ladies. They seem like businessmen experts," Mark grins. "Join us,"

"Boss experts indeed," Haera chuckles following Mark as he leads them in the little cafe shop. "Don't mind her, she's a little bitter because her husband is a boss and frankly is cheating on her."

They find a nice table for four seats and not a second is wasted as Haera shares information about you. Spreads lies.

Mark's eyebrows rise up quizzically. "You believe he's cheating?"

"I believe he's cheating on her. Simply because he's never around ever. Since the beginning of time, since the day he has married her, she's been alone." Haera retorts. "I mean he can't be working all the time, is that even possible?"

Chae-won nods her head. "I don't know about your husband, but my boss works from morning till late. He takes no breaks- I tried to invite him out with me, but the look he gave me sent me running out his office. Point is, he works a lot. I failed at one task to take him out."

"So you're trying to seduce your boss?" You ask Chae-won who's sipping on her coffee.

"Goodness no. I'd never want to do that. I feel bad for him at times because from Monday to Sunday he's always in the office on repeat. The only times I see him take a break is to drink water or take a leak, otherwise he never ever leaves his office until it's time to leave. Actually he doesn't even leave at knock out time, you'll see around midnight to 2 am in the morning he'll still be in his office." Chae-won says. "I can't blame him though. If I owned a million-dollar Perfume fragrance firm, I too would work my hardest,"

"Damnit," Haera shakes her head. "He has a high case of work fever. Does he have a wife, or someone like side chick-"

Mark laughs. "Trust us, he isn't the type for side chicks. I think he can do wife though. Does he even have a wife? He's social, but not so much with woman, or rather even males. I don't know how to explain this but you'll never catch him with anybody. All conversions with him are about work and they are brief, straight to the point and fast. The way he's so work oriented. I remember the other day he had a meeting with all the managers on all levels telling them to tell us to be focused on work and not to bring our home lives to work,"

"He wants you to be miserable like him," Haera laughs causing the others to laugh, all but you who briefly smiles.

Chae-won wonders about you and sort of feels bad for you. A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be cheated on. "Actually he does have a wife. Yesterday, for the first time in forever, he left early in order to go and surprise his wife. I was surprised too because he's never ever mentioned her. He's-"

"Oh he told you?" Haera asks. "Besides that, he's sweet for thinking about his wife. What about you Y/n when was the last time you've even seen his face?"

You ignore her. "Chae-won you were saying? How did he talk about his wife?"

Chae-won's face morphs into embarrassment. "I mean we were in the elevator and I thought since I don't know my own boss well, I could try to get to know him. So I asked the question but he didn't respond at all leaving me feeling so humiliated. Eventually after minutes of silence he answered. Aside from the humiliation, he did mention his wife," Chae-won keeps the other information for herself.

"What are you exactly? His personal assistant or work secretary? Or are those the same thing?" Haera asks.

"They kind of are the same thing. But he calls me his assistant more than secretary," Chae-won says.

"And here I was thinking that all secretaries sleep with their bosses," Haera remarks. "You've just proven to be the unrealistic version of all those skimpy businessman type movies."

Mark chuckles patting Chae-won's head. "She has the hardest job of us all. Being that close to the man but still being so far from every look he throws. What about you, what does your husband work as?"

You look up from the chocolate muffin that you were quietly eating with a fork, to Mark and you clear your throat. You hated this conversation so much and Haera just had to drag you into it. You can't talk about cheating when you had just done it to your own best friend's husband. "He's a Perfume fragrance company owner too,"

"Oh really?" Mark asks. "Tell us which one, we might even make a suggestion to our boss…if it's possible our boss can maybe even partner up or invest in his company,"

Haera smirks. "You want your boss to invest in her husband so that her husband can be more busy or maybe you want to keep him away from those hoes?"

You place your fork down trying not to glare at your best friend next to you. Chae-won shakes her head. "No, Mark meant it as in our boss will be the one doing all the work. After all, all companies he invests in he's always the one doing the most work. He believes that no one else can do what he wants the right way, so he does it himself."

"It's like doing the bully's homework, only except our boss might be the bully. The bully doing the nerd's homework," Mark shrugs his shoulders. His eyes turn to the side seeing the friend he's invited over. "Ah finally there he is,"

"The latecomer," Chae-won laughs.

"Hey guys this is my coworker, Jaemin. Hope you don't mind," Mark introduces the other man that enters the cafe heading over to them with a charming smile.

Your eyes widen and you quickly look away after meeting his eyes. Either way Jaemin notices you and a brighter smile is plastered to his face. He goes on and bumps Mark's fist and lightly touches Chae-won's shoulder before leaning in placing a light kiss to your cheek before smiling at your buffed reaction. "It's good seeing you again,"

"Oh wow I still can't believe you guys met when I was drunk." Haera lays her hand on her cheek.

Jaemin steals a chair from another table placing his seat between you and Haera. "Hope you don't mind if I sit here,"

"Wait you guys know each other?" Mark asks looking between Haera and Jaemin.

"Unfortunately," Haera rolls making Jaemin turn to her, ruffling her hair.

"It's unfortunate with her, but it's a pleasure with you here," Jaemin remarks sending little smiles to you.

Chae-won's eyes widen. "Hold on, is this your husband?"

Your eyes widen just as Jaemin turns to Chae-won wondering what's going on.

"No, no," You shakes her head. "He's not my husband at all,"

"Yeah she can't be," Mark pipes in after ordering another mug of coffee with a creamed muffin for Jaemin. "He's always said his wife is crazy and wild,"

Haera giggles. "Oh please I'm fire,"

Mark brightens up clapping his hands. "You're his wife? Wow what a small world."

"My bad, I thought they were husband and wife because you said that they met when you were drunk." Chae-won says. "Plus he seems more closer to…"

Jaemin chuckles just as you die from more embarrassment. You feel as though you’re missing a big picture, since Jaemin lays his arm around your shoulders. “We met yesterday night-" You end up giving him a sharp look which he acknowledges with a mischievous smirk. "-She escorted my wife but my wife passed out drunk leaving her and I alone to get to know each other…maybe even more than we should've. I don't regret any of it though, she's good company."

Your heart heaves in her chest and you looks away drinking your coffee. "They're kind of not on speaking terms that's why he's clinging to me." You end up saying.

Haera snorts. "Is that what he told you?"

"That's a relief, because if he was your husband I'd tell you right now that he's a liar and not the owner of a fragrance company," Mark laughs.

"What were you guys talking about?" Jaemin asks removing his hand from your shoulder. "I'm extremely lost,"

"Well Mark and I here," Haera places her hand on Mark's hand causing him to retreat immediately with a little chuckle.

"Whatever problem you guys have, you need to leave me out," he remarks.

Haera rolls her eyes playfully. "We were talking about uh Chae-won, is it?"

Chae-won, confused, nods her head.

"We were talking about her not taking advantage of sleeping with her boss, we also spoke about how Y/n’s husband is cheating," Haera says quickly. "And that's just about it,"

"Do you really think he's cheating?" Chae-won asks looking at you.

You gulp looking down at your empty plate with only a muffin wrapper. You were the one cheating. "No, he isn't-"

"But he is," Haera interrupts. "What will it take for you to believe that?"

You say nothing your shoulders slouching for the rest of the lunch as Mark and Haera converse about his boss. You suddenly feel a hand crawling on your thigh and turn to Jaemin knowing it's him. You want to push him away… but feelings his hand massaging you’re your thigh feels comforting, and so you don’t stop him.

After all, he did nothing else but run ticklish circles around your thigh. Maybe even, slide his hand passed your dress secretly. His fingers lingering on your knee before going up a bit. You find yourself shifting into your seat, leaning your arms on the table, just as Jaemin’s wrist still moves along your thigh and grazes your panties with his fingers.

A smirk grows on his lips the moment he feels your hand panties, keeping his eyes on your lower half not paying attention to the conversation going on between Mark and Haera. He leans close to you whispering. “You’re soaked,”

You gulp and ignore him, your body jerking into his whole hand. He leans back, his eyes now attached to the sides of your uneasy face, as you struggle to maintain yourself. You’re not even listening to Haera and Mark, your gaze is on the plate on the table as you focus on breathing as Jaemin flickers his fingers around your wet panties. Your legs slightly part when his pushes your panties aside and his cold fingers touch your cunt making you twitch a little. His fingers slide over you collecting your juices dripping out, scissoring you loving your face.

You’re both unaware of Chae-won’s eyes curiously going between the both of you. While her eyes don’t go underneath the table, she can tell that Jaemin is doing something that he shouldn’t be doing. What’s worse is that you’re accepting it. With all the information given, she’s shocked that you and Jaemin are actually doing this in public. She drinks on her drink, continuing to observe silently as Haera talks non stop about how shady men are- yet here is her husband being the shadiest.

Meanwhile you’re leaning forward to have his fingers work faster into you. You try not to shake, or squirm, or let your eyes wither to a close, instead you breath in and out and turn to Haera lightly and clear your throat to moan out.

His fingers slip between your core just as your mouth falls open and you quickly take Haera’s muffin and place it in your mouth moaning. “This is really good,” You breath out. “Can I have this? Mh,” You close your eyes nodding your head as a distraction and moan out shaking your head, when Jaemin uses a finger to fill you up.

Haera’s eyes widen by the sounds leaving your mouth. “You can have them, just don’t make those sounds,”

Jaemin watches you intently the way you try to close your mouth and bite your lip. “Don’t be quiet, if you like the muffin then make those cute sounds,”

Haera this time glares at Jaemin, just as he has his eyes focused on you. Haera, doesn’t know why but her eyes then turn to you seeing your eyes closed and your head hanging on your hand- there’s even a vein appearing lightly on your forehead. You must be annoyed because she keeps bad mouthing your husband. And that makes her feel bad. “Y/n, you know I care about you right? It’s not like I’m saying all this out of spite,” She watches how your lips curl and your breathing intensifies. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” Haera gets worried. “Y/n?”

Meanwhile, your legs that were once open are now shut tightly against Jaemin’s figners as he goes faster flicking his fingers nonstop loving how tongue tied you are. You buck your hips when he curls his finger in you and you breath out. “Mhm,” You open your eyes turning to Haera covering your mouth with your fist. Haera’s stunned by the tears brimming by your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” You can’t understand what she’s talking about as your brain is muffled in mush of feeling Jaemin’s fingers in your slippery wetness. Chae-won shakes her head leaning back in her seat. Disgusting.

You croak louder this time and Jaemin doesn’t waste time adding another finger making your legs tremble when his digits immediately curl inside of you. He leans forward looking at Haera, knowing you’re brain fucked. The pleasure too intense for you. “You’ve said quite a lot of words, what do you she’d say to that?” Jaemin’s fingers between your legs love the way your cunt swallows his fingers. That’s until you buck forward with a loud gasp and your eyes snap open looking at Haera as you shake your head and stand up immediately causing Jaemin’s fingers to retreat in delight. His fingers being brought up to his face scissoring them curiously and laughing staring at the slick clinging to his digits and it only makes you more embarrassed.

“Jaemin stop laughing it’s not funny.” Haera commands in anger. She didn’t mean for her words to make you grow red in the face. Meanwhile, your face is red from the slick slime on Jaemin’s fingers which he covers by picking up his muffin. His fingers enter his mouth and he moans out, as you close your eyes.

“I need the bathroom,” Your body lightly trembles, this time alarming Mark.

“Hey, she probably didn’t mean it to hurt you,” Mark says. Chae-won shakes her head after catching Jaemin licking his fingers. Disgusting. But she doesn’t say anything, not too sure of the situation.

You’re not even in their conversation as you shakily breath and walk with your legs closed, feeling the dripping falling from your thighs. You try to go faster to the washroom. Once you’re inside you slam the door- only for a hand to pop in.

Whereas Haera is left standing by the table with her heart feeling slumped when watching Jaemin assuredly follow after you. Haera feels guilty. You never cry when fighting about Jaehyun, you always get angry. Did she go too far this time?

“Hey,” Your eyes widen when Jaemin’s face smiles at you. You open the door for him and he enters. “How bout we make this one quick?”

You nod your head, closing the door and locking it as Jaemin unfasten his belt and unzips his pants as you lift your skirt up sliding your panties down. Your eyes are locked onto his as his hard member meets the entrance of your pussy before he plays with your juices smiling as you moan. “Jaemin stop playing with me,”

“Great acting back there,” He humps and slides his thick hard dick into your wetness as your back arches with a loud moan leaving you by the lack of warning.

“Protection?”

“Pill?” He moans, freely pressing your back against the door thrusting in you when you nod that you’re on pill. “You looked really disheveled, back there,”

“What were they even talking about?” You moan, holding onto Jaemin’s shoulders as he keeps a tight grip on your hips humping into you blissfully.

“Only heaven knows, fuck, so wet,” Jaemin grunts as you wine, bucking your hips higher as you feel a tight knot forming in the pit of your belly. Your eyes, gingerly hook onto Jaemin’s lustful stare in your eyes. “You really fit into me like a glove,”

You don’t say anything, moaning out muffling your voice just in case anyone else is around the door. The sound of his bare skin slapping into yours is the only sound emitting throughout the ladies washroom. You tilt your head to the side. “How’d you even get in?”

“Said I’d go and check on you,” Jaemin grunts angrily keeping his moans in yet plunging so hard into you driving himself faster as he feels himself cracking up. “Fuck, I’m close,”

“I’m close, I’ve been waiting for you,” You giggle, keeping your steamy eyes on him as he smirks, now driving insanely fast into you. His grip on your waist tightening as each stroke sends you into oblivion as you hump into him bouncing yourself on him riding him. “Close, close, close,” You chant on repeat with your jaws tight and your teeth clinched. “Jaemin-”

There’s a knock on the door, and Jaemin’s quick to cover your mouth stopping when your shaking thighs causes your body to vibrate against him. He huffs silently, moving your body away from the door and to the edge of the sink. The knock comes again, and just as Jaemin guessed it’s Haera. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Just a minute,” Jaemin forces out, sounding normal.

You surprise yourself when you ignore Haera’s visit and continue to rock against Jaemin’s cock painfully slowly trying not to make a sound. A hiss leaves Jaemin’s lips and you smirk, finding yourself diving into his lips to keep him quiet. You’re both kissing, as you ride yourself into Jaemin bouncing and going faster with Jaemin’s hands on your waist assisting you. It’s low, but the only sound now is the quenching and slurching and your kisses. You both release and grip tightly onto each other feeling your core squeezing on Jaemin’s dick. He slides his dick against your pussy smearing his own cum into you allowing your fluids to mix as you both catch onto your breaths breaking the kiss. You look down between your legs that are wrapped on Jaemin, watching him grinding his dick against your folds watching the mess slide over his dick, coating it with your fluids.

“We just had sex again,” You breath out adjusting to your shaky legs as Jaemin brings you down. You think you’re done, but you’re surprised when Jaemin kneels on one leg his mouth clasping over your leaking pussy. “Jaemn stop,” You shut your eyes when feeling his warm tongue suck on your swollen pussy. Your body vibrates and you cup your mouth squeezing your eyes shut- when you're squirting out again Jaemin sucks all your juices cleaning you up with his tongue.

"Haera absolutely hates me going down on her," Jaemin rubs your pussy bud watching you squirm as you hold onto his hair. "Does your husband go down on you?"

"He's never," You rock your hips into his finger.

Jaemin smirks. "Then you're enjoying this," Jaemin dips his tongue in your heart again. "On top of that, you taste so good fuck,"

“Lunch break is about to end,” Mark states turning to a worried Haera. “I’m sure they’ll come out soon. But we have to go,”

“Yeah, sure. I can wait for them, you guys can go,” Haera says before her eyes move to the door you and Jaemin disappeared in. The fact that you allowed Jaemin to be there for you instead of her- is driving Haera crazy. Jaemin was a good for nothing, so what good could he offer you?

When Chae-won gets in from her break, she takes in deep steady breaths when Jaehyun calls her in his office. What would he want? She enters his office yet again standing close by the door but he instructs her to stand in front of him.

"How was your lunch break?" He leans away from his paperwork taking a look at her. His eyes being an intimidating hue of black and brown that she stands straight feeling chills run her spine. Despite him being her boss, she can’t help but acknowledge he had such an alluring face.

Chae-won's in confusion with how to answer terrified that it may be a trick question. "I-it was g-ood..great. Great." She tries not to think of what her eyes witnessed back at the cafe.

Jaehyun squints his eyes a little before removing his reading glasses placing them aside to have a better look at her. "I was thinking of demoting you-"

"No sir!" She immediately reacts realizing that was a mistake. "I'm sorry for interrupting. Sorry sir."

Jaehyun tilts his head to the side sighing again. "I was thinking of demoting you. However, I decided against it. I wouldn't necessarily say you're the finest assistant, but I will say you know your work, you're punctual, you're prepared, organized, fixed, can work for long hours, you're fast and good at recollecting information, transmitting data into the system and you work diligently hard. It would take time for HR to bring me someone with mid-senior level entry qualities as yourself."

Chae-won's heart beats moderately slow trying to control her mouth from grinning brightly. He threw nice comments and compliments to her. After all she was on the verge of being fired…well demoted. Ever since she's been promoted to working with the big boss her salary has gone rocket high, she simply couldn't imagine going back down on lower levels. "Thank you si-"

"Please only speak when I've finished." He says sternly again.

It's at this moment that she realizes that she's never been called in his office to discuss anything. He would always press the little intercom button to talk to her, or rather tell her things to do. So without thought she seals her lips shut nodding her head.

"I proceed. I thought little on what you said, about us being on good terms. If you so desire for us to be on good terms, I'm going to need you to be more work focused. That's what I'm paying you for. Not to sit and get to know me, or become my friend. You and I are not friends. I am your superior. The next time you step out of line you can consider yourself demoted, or worse I will regulate you from this company."

Her jaw drops and a muffled laugh escapes from someone behind her, it's a male with blonde hair. "Damn Jae, you and your threats need to calm down,"

The man walks in and Jaehyun shakes his head fixing his glasses back on his face. "What do you want Taeyong?"

"I want to know why you're threatening to exile your secretary from the company." The man, Taeyong takes a seat on one of the chairs and looks back to her. "From all the time I've been here, I haven't gotten your name,"

Chae-won hesitantly looks to the man Taeyong before focusing back on Jaehyun afraid to reply. Jaehyun looks up to her feeling that her eyes are on him. "You can answer him if you want a one-night stand."

"Oh wow you cheap fool," Taeyong mocks. "Is that how low you think of me?"

"You can leave now." Jaehyun gestures to the door for Chae-won to leave before Taeyong stops him.

"Wait hold on." He frowns. "Do you even know her name?"

"I don't need to."

Chae-won's face falls and she starts leaving but stops when Taeyong speaks again. "What's your name dear?"

"Why are you tormenting my assistant?" Jaehyun looks up again looking at Taeyong for a brief second going back to his work. "Do you want to get laid? If so, this isn’t the place for that,"

"I'm not like that." Taeyong gets up dropping a sealed envelope on the table. "But to get out your hair, I'm gonna leave."

"Her name's Chae-won," Jaehyun states surprising both Taeyong and Chae-won who thought he didn't know her name. "Now leave."

"So you do know her name," Taeyong grins again.

"It's by respect and so that she won't have to talk to you," Jaehyun states.

Taeyong rolls his eyes. "You have a very bad record of me,"

"It's because you're bad," Jaehyun shakes his head. "You should leave now."

"Well that means I'll be seeing you around, Chae-won. Or rather next time when your boss comes to my company you can come along,"

Taeyong leaves the room closing the door behind him. Chae-won opens the door to leave as well but Jaehyun commands her. "Stay a minute."

"Yes sir."

Jaehyun begins to open up the envelope reading through the documents with his reading glasses and nods his head, separating some of the papers and stacking the others in another folder. Chae-won wonders how he's so fixed on knowing how anything functioned on his table, literally there's paperwork everywhere as well as highlighters and pens. All his gadgets are closed as he works by hand the old fashioned way- however Chae-won knows that he only took out his gadgets around the late evening because of lighting. Jaehyun on the other hand knows how he functions. He hands some papers to her and she politely takes it. "To?"

"18th floor to the ICT manager. If he doesn't understand the terms proposed, then he'll need to come up here. Tell him to set the deal on high account, I don't want anything less than a million. He's already lost so much clients because of that mess."

Chae-won nods her head turning to the door but stops again when he calls her name.

"I wanted to conclude on earlier, before I got interrupted." Jaehyun removes his glasses looking back at her. She sulks inside not wanting for him to threaten her again. "If you can follow the rules and not step out of line, then I'm sure we will be on good terms. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Now, you may ask one question that you desire. I presume since you wanted to invite me for lunch, you wanted to know something."

Chae-won gets surprised by his request and her brain begins to work fast thinking on what and how exactly she would talk and about what. She thinks to the strangers they met today and how basically they had a gossip session about him.

Jaehyun watches her thinking process before going back to work. "Anytime now would be nice," he nods his head.

"Uhm. Thank you sir. I really just wanted you to take a break. It's not that I wanted to know anything in particular, but now that you've permitted me to ask," Chae-won's face heats up hearing the freedom of her words in her voice. He's actually allowing her to ask anything. "How did your surprise for your wife go?"

Jaehyun's ears perk up and he's filled with a strong desire to tell her to leave but instead he carefully answers while continuing with his work. "Not as planned. My surprise backfired as she was out with a friend."

Upon thinking about your states when you got home, he can't help but wonder what exactly is it that you did to get your legs sour like that.

PART 2

[nothorses]

I'm curious if you have any further thoughts re; not generally liking the concept of discipline!

oh you know I do.

So okay, to preface, this is a subject that is very central to, like, my entire- and ongoing- education in education. I have read and talked and practiced about this a lot. I am very sorry for how wordy I'm about to get, and I'm sorry if I make any leaps or assumptions about where other folks are gonna be at in terms of familiarity with these ideas. (I am also approaching this, obv, from the perspective of education- not like, self-discipline as a skill).

There are two core arguments here: efficacy, and ethics. We first ask the question, "is it ethical?", and then we ask, "is it effective?", and if it's both of those things, it's probably a good idea!

Now, these questions can get a little complicated in practice... but discipline fails them both.

The "goal" of disciplining someone is to, essentially, end and prevent a behavior. Discipline does a few things to this end; it:

Establishes a boundary

Provides motivation not to cross the boundary

Provides consequences for crossing the boundary.

Establishing the boundary is, I would argue, not inherently a part of discipline itself- and oftentimes discipline comes without any kind of warning or boundary-establishing at all ("you know what you did", contradictory or nonsensical punishment, etc.- abuse, basically).

The motivation discipline provides is fear. Discipline doesn't need to be physical- oftentimes it's something like grounding, taking things away, or even just a stern conversation- but the goal of those threats is to create a sense of fear regardless. Fear of losing something you care about, fear of feeling guilt or shame, fear of being embarrassed in front of others, etc.

And the consequences for crossing the boundary are always going to be manufactured; someone has to follow through on the threat and implement them, because discipline necessarily is not natural. It is person-created and person-enforced.

Which leads to my next point:

Discipline has proven, again and again, to be a band-aid solution at best. Yes, there is motivation and there are consequences, and oftentimes it does dissuade people from crossing boundaries. But here's the thing: people are inconsistent, and people are not omnipresent. If a boundary is crossed and the enforcer doesn't know about it, there is no consequence. The threat is, at least partially, empty.

The other issue with efficacy are the lessons discipline imparts: that consequences are avoidable and/or arbitrary, and that person-enforced consequences are the only reason you should avoid crossing boundaries in the first place.

What if you can get around the consequences? What if you just decide not to care? There are other reasons to respect these boundaries, but discipline distracts from and says, if those consequences aren't enough for me to trust that you'll respect them on their own, then there is no reason for you to respect them on their own.

Discipline also demonstrates a cruel behavior and presents it as altruistic and necessary; "it's okay to treat people like this if you're enforcing a boundary". The impact of that will vary depending on the kinds of consequences we're talking about here, and whether this is imposed internally ("I can treat people like this"), or externally ("it's okay for others to treat me like this"), or both, will often depend on the person. But the core message remains the same.

It's common because it's the easiest solution, not the best one; if someone does something you don't like, just fucking fight them using whatever weapons you have until they stop. Be it physical pain, fear, shame, or guilt, the concept is the same and it is widely-applicable with pretty minimal need to adjust.

But there are alternatives, and those alternatives are not only more ethical- they are genuinely more effective as well.

First: the most effective way of preventing boundary-crossing is to avoid situations where it might happen in the first place. Whatever is motivating someone to cross a boundary, you should want to understand that. If you have the power to prevent it, you should try.

(ex: I plan the first day of outdoor ed so that my students can play freely for the last hour or so, which avoids a lot of problems that crop up if I try to get them to do anything mentally strenuous during that time instead.)

If you're at the point that you need to react rather than be proactive, your central goal should be to teach people:

What the boundary is

Why it's there

Why they should respect it.

This is most straightforward as a conversation, but it doesn't always have to be. Sometimes it's allowing people to find the boundary and learn what the consequences are, and acting as a support system, ready to step in and help if they're in any danger of being hurt. Sometimes it's asking questions and helping them think it through. Sometimes it's telling stories, or watching things with them, or even just teaching them how to pause, ask questions, and reflect on these ideas themselves.

When you can't convey all those messages, you can make do in other ways; distract and redirect away from the boundary, give them tools to avoid the boundary on their own, or evaluate natural consequences ("what is the bare minimum that needs to happen in order to stop this?")

There is a lot of theory around this in the field of education, but the gist of it is: just ask yourself why you're doing what you're doing, what messages you might be sending, and pay attention to the impact it has. Is there a better way? Is there another time/place it could happen instead? How could I prevent this from happening next time?

This carries to large-scale issues as well; incarceration and the criminal justice system relies on discipline, and it's fairly common lately to see alternatives discussed. Avoiding situations where discipline is needed at all is pretty core to that; social programs and supports are a major part of those conversations. When that fails, the next steps are to ask what the minimum we need to do to stop it is, and how we can prevent it from happening again: removal from the situation with minimal to no force, then mental health/other support as needed.

Ask yourself why someone might be doing something, and take the time to think of all the reasons you can. Is it really because they just want to do harm, or could it be something else? What kind of help or instruction do they need? What can you reasonably provide right now?

It's tough, and it goes against a lot of core self-preservation instincts- but if you're in a situation where you can decide whether or not to discipline someone, you're in a situation where you have a responsibility to evaluate whether you should in the first place.

[batbeato]

Really random question, but can you expand on your perspective in regards to Tohya?

Though he and Battler were once one person, after the events on Rokkenjima where Battler effectively died - ego death/depersonalization, basically? If I’m using the terms correctly - and the one became two, in a way.

Tohya was born anew from the relatively blank slate left behind (by this, I mean his amnesia).

Sometimes it sort of shifts for me, I mean. Whether Tohya is his own person, or struggles to differentiate between ‘Battler’ and himself - because by all means, Battler did and didn’t survive. They are and are not the same.

The mental trauma of what happened on Rokkenjima, followed by the physical trauma of practically drowning and then being struck by a car - that ‘killed’ Battler, lost him his memories. But physically, his body survived. His mind, if not his unique consciousness, survived.

Sometimes for me, he ‘was’ Battler - not an entirely individual person, and sometimes he still can’t view himself as ‘his own person’. Not, not exactly Battler - but he’s not not Battler? An unsteady sense of self, that sort of almost shifts?

It’s different from how you portray him, because Tohya is adamant he isn’t Battler. In ‘a fate outside the catbox’ especially, his sense of self grows strong.

It’s confusing to explain, sorry. That’s part of why I wanted to ask, since Tohya’s nature is so indistinct to me.

It’s just that the way you put the intricacy of Tohya’s nature into words for your fics, it’s so good. It just reads as ‘Tohya’ for me, but at the same time it’s different from how I see him? In a good way, I swear!

But, how did you reach that conclusion about his character, have such clarity in describing how Tohya is, how he feels? How he is separate from Battler…?

Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, I’m all over the place, here.

Tohya is one of my favorite characters to puzzle over - as you can probably tell from the fact that 'a fate outside a catbox' exists (also it's really cool that you checked out my stuff beyond that, from your wording? thank you!). I appreciate the chance to ramble about him from this angle, actually.

I think in the end it comes down to two key aspects of Tohya: plurality and trauma, which are intertwined.

Plurality is the general idea of "one body holding more than one mind/being/identity/etc." but it can overlap with DID/OSDD. In this post I'm more specifically talking about dissociative plurality, more akin to DID. Tohya has the identity he creates after losing his memory - Hachijo Tohya - but also the identity and memories from the person he 'used to be' - Ushiromiya Battler. It's canonically shown that he has trouble accepting that he was Battler, to the point that it resulted in his wheelchair usage (only described as a "fit" in the text). I've seen people theorize that his struggle to accept Battler as his 'true identity' resulted in a suicide attempt that caused his wheelchair-user status, though I personally lean more towards that the stress of it all resulted in something like a stroke, or else more towards the idea of (unprocessed especially) trauma having profound physical effects on the body, or even both together in some sense.

For me, I feel like Tohya and Battler are separate in a large part because of this trouble Tohya has accepting Battler - both are present in the body (metaphorically), but Tohya is the one who has lived on, while only Battler's memories and emotions remain. If I was going to use system language, it might be like Battler has gone dormant. The life the body lived as Battler shaped Tohya: in Tohya's love of mystery novels, in the memories that Tohya has access to, in his feelings of guilt about the Ushiromiya family, and in his love for Ange. But at the same time, even if Tohya has inherited these things from Battler, he doesn't need to share the identity of Battler to have them or claim ownership of them. Rather, because of the trauma associated with Battler, Tohya's separate identity functions as a defense mechanism to disassociate from that trauma and protect him.

I like going at Tohya from a plurality angle, even though it's rare that I write Tohya as explicitly and emphatically plural. Tohya feels as though Battler is this entirely separate entity that he was suddenly saddled with, and he simply wants to be "one person" again, and for Battler to disappear. However, though Tohya tries to integrate Battler into his identity and accept that he "is" Battler, this approach ultimately results in failure. For Tohya, coexisting with the knowledge that he was once Battler, or even treating Battler as a separate person who used to own his body, seems to have allowed him to find more peace. He felt that Battler would take over his body, that Battler was a stranger to him, and that Battler was a threat to his existence. But once he meets Yukari, he doesn't become Battler. The narration says that he "was once Ushiromiya Battler", and Tohya refers to "the Ushiromiya Battler inside me" (comes off as very plural). Battler is a part of his past, and perhaps a part of him, but Tohya cannot become Battler again.

I mentioned the trauma angle before, and how Tohya rejecting Battler may function as a protective act for him, to disassociate from the trauma that Battler holds. Battler lost his entire family, witnessed his family's corpses, and also watched Beatrice/Sayo commit suicide and has to live with the knowledge that he failed to save her. Oh, and also Battler is Kyrie's child, not Asumu's. Considering what that did to Battler's psyche in Episode 4, it probably didn't have a good effect on Tohya either.

People who experience singular traumatic incidents can often feel as though they aren't the person they were before the trauma. People who experience violent crimes, sexual assault, serve in the army, etc. can feel disconnected and detached from who they were before. It can take very careful and slow work to properly integrate this trauma, and the person they became after the trauma, into the person's complete identity. You have to integrate not only the traumatic incident, but also what you have missed out on in terms of your life and growth and development because of the trauma. For Tohya, this means that he would need to integrate the Rokkenjima Incident, as well as all of the years he spent living as Tohya, into the identity of "Ushiromiya Battler". A difficult task, especially without the assistance of a mental health professional.

For me, Tohya's separation from Battler and my thoughts on identity(/plurality) and trauma led me to really support the idea of Tohya as a character distinct from Battler. As I've grown older (I say, as though I'm not still just in my 20s haha), I've started to feel like I'm an entirely different person from I was even a few years ago due to a lot of revelations about my identity and myself. I had such a different conception of who I was back then, even if I had the same body and shared some traits, that I feel entirely distinct from them. It's a really different situation from Tohya, of course, but because of that I think I can really understand the idea of having memories of who you used to be, but also not connecting to those memories as "yours", even if they inform a lot of the bones of your current self. It's... complicated. You were them, but are they you?

I think interpreting Tohya as "Battler but after a bout of amnesia and lots of trauma" or "a person born from Ushiromiya Battler" can vary and depends a lot on one's concept of identity, as well as trauma. I wouldn't be opposed to the idea that, given the proper resources and support, Tohya would be capable of integrating his identity and becoming Ushiromiya Battler again. But I also feel like Tohya choosing a path of coexistence, where he accepts Battler as someone he used to be, but who isn't him now, and instead considers himself to just be Hachijo Tohya, is also fine. Whether Tohya integrates Battler into his identity and becomes Battler (or even perhaps considers himself to be both Tohya and Battler at once). or establishes himself as just Tohya, he would need to consider his relationship with the identity of Ushiromiya Battler and work to integrate the trauma that the identity of Ushiromiya Battler holds. (I feel like a large part of why Tohya is so terrified of Battler is because Battler represents trauma to him, even more than the idea of losing his identity to Battler.)

I hope this answers your question!

[electricbluebutterflies]

4 and 5 just scream Garcy to me.

Usual post-canon-divergence, PG-ish, also on ao3.

4. “You can’t keep doing this.”

It’s been a while since Lucy has shared so much space with another human being, and never under these circumstances.

Her relationships don’t make it that far, okay? It’s always been talk about getting a place together, maybe even tour an apartment or two, and then something comes up, usually something about her that isn’t good enough, and-

She’s not delusional enough to think that her current situation compares so easily to her past, but the fact remains that she has no idea what she’s doing here and even less idea how to resolve a few… unfortunate habits.

It makes sense, objectively. She’d needed to hide, and she’d been spending most of her time up there anyways, and she’d been willing to curl up with a blanket on the floor and she made that very clear the first time she intentionally asked if she could stay and… of course that didn’t fly, because Flynn is at least generally chivalric if not totally in love with her and okay that’s a problem she doesn’t have time for, and-

She hadn’t meant to appropriate his bed. And, through some combination of logistics and well-hidden masochism, that put him on the chair. The chair that she is truly amazed he hasn’t broken. This won’t do.

She tolerates said logistical issues for a few weeks, long enough that she can get used to the advantages she gets out of them, long enough that she makes one little comment about being cold and the next day an extra blanket practically appears out of thin air and there are questions she knows not to ask and-

She tries not to pay too much attention. She cannot, under any circumstances, ruin this fragile dynamic before anything’s even really happened. But it is way, way too obvious that the current sleeping arrangement isn’t working out.

He won’t say anything, she knows. Guilt remains a good part of why she’s the only currently living being who can consistently get him to do anything – although the other women on the team are getting there, Lucy’s starting to notice, the dynamics different but at least consistently positive – and there is no doubt in her mind that any attempted sacrifice on her side, no matter how small, will not fly. It’s strange to be so adored, so uncertain of what the other person wants but aware enough that this is the only sphere in which they are capable of holding back, and-

“We need to talk,” she says towards the end of the night, towards the point where that man will once more fold his body into a space that is not comfortable and still pretend in the morning that nothing hurts. He thinks he’s subtle, and it’s almost cute and that’s not a word she’s used to applying to him and she kinda suspects no one else ever has, maybe the dead wife did, that sounds like her sense of humor from the bits and pieces Lucy has heard, and-

“So talk.” Unintimidated by her, by that phrase that has never meant good things in her octaves, but used to it. Progress, somehow.

“You can’t… you can’t keep doing this,” Lucy says, gesturing towards the chair vaguely behind them. “I know it’s not comfortable and-“

“I would suffer through worse for you.”

Yep, she thinks. Guilt. A different person, in this situation, would take more advantage of it. She, on the other hand…

“That’s almost my point. It’s not an ideal situation, and it needs to change.”

He’s quiet for a moment, looking her up and down, not quite like prey but close, like-

“And what change would you prefer?”

“I think that bed could hold both of us,” she says. No reason to be subtle when this is going to get weird either way. “It previously held you, and I’m small, and-“

“And you would be alright with that?”

“I’ve been falling asleep in here on a regular basis for a month and the strangest thing I’ve woken up to is an extra blanket over me. I trust you. Might be a little awkward, but I’ll deal.”

“And you would…”

They are not discussing the mutual passive attraction. Not right now. This just isn’t the time, Lucy decides, and Flynn won’t do anything first, not after all they’ve been through, and-

“You might have to cuddle with me a little. To make it work. But I’m in if you’re in.”

He does not outright say no. He does not say anything, for the moment. But later in the night when she gets tired, she curls herself up on the side of the narrow bed closer to the wall and… it is nicer to have another person so close, she decides. Wrapped around her as she’d expected, the space just a little too small for comfort, and-

“This is what I want,” she murmurs. “Let me have it.”

[darkenforcer]

those faceless words... just how much death has dar'khol already witnessed? how many tragedies?

he pours what remains of his hollow chest into his protest, "that's not what i'm-- we both know there's only one way to get rid of this thing," it's dar's personal hell, after all, a miracle won't save them, "it doesn't matter whose 'place' it is at this point!"

screw being a 'warrior of light'; this isn't something anyone should have to do, even in a lucid, fucked-up dream! the history behind that title may still be a mystery-- and he'll never pry -- but the infernal atmosphere is of the miqo'te's own creation, isn't it? it speaks of the horrors he's faced and the scars they've left. it's a hard, crushing truth to confront at once, and the resulting worry squeezes yuri's lungs taut.

his face pinches in his struggle to stand upright, forced to watch the grave scenario play; trying so hard to remain firm in spite of his worst fears and biggest regrets, the other man's pain is so obvious. his heart isn't in it. it shouldn't be in it!

so it's up to him to take his place-- who else? sword lifted from the ashen dirt, each aching stride powered by the adrenaline surging within his core... there's no better candidate to lift that burden from dar's shoulders.

when the chains dissipate, yuri's there to dig the point of his sword into the soil, entrapping them within a healing glyph. it's a small boost compared to anything estelle could cast, but it'll do; helps that it burns enemies like hell, its blue-white glow singeing the creature's skin, keeping its mouth shut for a blissful moment longer.

the freak wants to speak of guilt? well, yuri has plenty! it's at the center of the bloodstained path he walks. the path he chose, rather than having it thrust upon him. and that's the difference, isn't it? why it's his responsibility, even if it leaves a permanent stain on how the man sees him. a heartache needed to prevent another.

'you'd never do something like that without a reason. if you ever end up pointing your sword at me, i'm sure i will have done something to deserve it.'

ironic, having estelle's words echo here... would dar agree with them? he can practically feel the question hanging over his head, his grip tightening and eyes squeezing shut, if only briefly. faltering isn't an option, and yet...

"haven't you suffered enough?" he snaps as the last of his magic clears, "you heard 'em! this is the one thing i can do! killing, so people like you don't have to!" (good people; people who deserve so much more than a self-fulfilling cycle of torment).

their foe pounces then, yuri rolling out of its path and countering with a slice to its side-- the wound deep enough to splatter dark blood across the swordsman's cheek.

"i've already made my choice," he refuses to look dar's way, his voice startlingly clear even whilst catching his breath, "don't make this any harder than it has to be."

'now you have to let me meet him!'

khol'a had been the one to say as such, but dar'khol had been the reason. it was his own dream -- his own whimsical desires -- that spurred such a sentence into existence. embarrassment had seized him upon hearing it, but it was a way of voicing his own wants without speaking them aloud.

a desire to put those he cared for most in one place, to be proud of where he was lead and what bonds he'd come to forge.

yet it all felt like a twisted knife hearing his brother voice that same want a second time. merely watching yuri take the blasphemies attention for but a moment sent a shock through his nerves; gave a metaphorical tug to the binding chains within that he'd been yet to do so himself.

so, when the beast came forth again, he was willing to take the brunt of it -- he was suppose to take it! no matter how often he was told otherwise, he couldn't be convinced this was anything other than his own burden to bear. this was his brother, for fucks sake!

feeling a push only quickened the bristling of fur, seized by a chill as he watched his perspective shift; as he watched a different blade meet that twisted creatures hand. as dar's mouth opened, the only word he could spit out was a hastened, "no!"

his own hand had shot forward along with the beasts, fingers grasping at air as yuri was ripped from his reach. his entire body winces at the sounding thud, ears bouncing with an observant twitch as the other man's sword fell to the ground.

"no one? you're forgetting the one person who holds him back the most, when it comes to holding their faults. or has he not yet made it clear?"

a pleased hum flows against his ears, eyes forced towards the sight of his brother reveling in his catch; of the very man he'd come to care for held within that same taunting gaze that had followed him thus far.

yuri's words only seem to have the warrior faltering further; stuck in a look of stupefied horror, mouth agape with a tentative desire to speak out against him. but what could he say with a voice that alluded him? stuck in a repeated routine of held, strained breathing. chest ached with the uneven helping of air, or lack thereof. head left in a dizzying spin as the miqo'te's stare wavered between the two.

just go!! he was told, but not an inch of him moved. planted in place, desperate for a full intake -- the world around seemed to mock him with its stilled breeze. restrictive chains pulled taut, crumbling stone and brick of homes within them; tightening, suffocating. crashing flames only adding to the dilapidated mess.

'... oh, do not look at me so...' '... for.. give... this... one...'

a proper gasp had seized its chance with those relived words, a tremble sending an axe's head into the ground below. they're shaky, at first, but breaths are taken again; deep, plentiful, greedy.

teeth clench with audible grit, a hand extending once more to find purchase around an extending chain of his own creation. a burning ember of aether, tying himself to that of the abhorrent creature holding his brothers name. the beast gives an audible choke, claws scraping at its own throat in an attempt to alleviate the chain before dar'khol administers a defiant tug; crimson sparking (but fading) in his narrowing stare.

"--and where the hells' am i suppose to go!?" ah, there are the words he had been searching for. the warrior heaves, a hiss pressed passed bared fangs while his brother is lead back by temporary constraints. "i'm expected to just turn tail and run, is that it? leave you here in my place?"

"still so stubborn...!" words are cut with another yank, a growl escaping to rival dar'khol's own with his waning hold. "you should listen to what you're told, you're only prolonging your guilt. you know this chain won't hold..."

it's only a matter of seconds before it fades, and the monster doesn't lie. dar's stalling, still, but he couldn't very well turn from this entirely. he couldn't be left to do nothing.

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

what i want | s. todoroki 

➳ tags ;; face-sitting, afab!reader, overstimulation, scent kink (?), smut, mdni 18+

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; saw a tiktok + and read this shiggy drabble by @/saintdabi ‘s  and now this concept wont leave me alone in anyway.  literally wrote this like i was posessed... 

➳ plot ;; midoriya sends a certain link in the groupchat. todorki gets curious and clicks. suddenly he wants to try seomthing. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

“Can we try something?” 

The question catches you off-guard. Not because it’s a weird and kind of vague question (which it is) but because of who’s asking. Todoroki rarely ever brings things up out of the blue. You’re trying to make dinner so you don’t really have a lot of time to think about why. You dry your wet-hands on the front of your apron, stirring the pot. 

You don’t bother to think twice when you reply to him. 

“What do you wanna try?” 

A silence falls. It’s just a beat too long, which isn’t uncommon for him but isn’t what you expect. You glance over your shoulder after salting the water, squinting. Todoroki almost mirrors you, reading something off his phone. He looks up at you after taking one last glance, as if to make sure he got it right. 

“Face-sitting,” 

You almost fall over. 

He says it so nonchalantly, you’re almost sure you’re hearing things. You brace yourself on the counter and turn down the heat almost entirely, trying to ensure your house doesn’t go down in flames. You blink at him owlishly. 

“Sorry.. can you repeat that?” 

He looks confused. He was sure he said it correctly. He blinks a few times, glances at his phone again as he tilts his head to one side. 

“..face-sitting?”  

You think you’ve gone mad but he looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost it. Your skin grows beyond hot underneath your clothes - a vague emotion of arousal rolling through you. With your mouth agape, you decide that there’s no way you could continue with dinner so you turn it off and stare at him. Nervously, you cross your arms over your chest. 

“.. Where did you..?” 

Todoroki, stoic as ever, shrugs. He looks down at his phone and this time, you can hear the constant buzzing. 

“Midoriya sent a link into the chat on accident. I clicked it,” ― he says, and then seemingly decides this needs absolutely no more explaining than that ― “It looked interesting,” 

You stare at him. 

“Were you... watching porn while I made dinner?” 

He nods. You think you might lose your mind at this rate but you press forward anyways, eyes looking down at his pants. He’s as soft as can be, you’d know. 

“You’re not hard..?” 

He nods, again. Looks at you confused like he has some reason to be. 

“I only get hard with you,” 

You inhale a sharp breath. You think this man might kill you some day, but you’d probably let it happen. Shaking your head, you lean against the counter. With a smile of sympathy, you decide to be straightforward with it. 

“..I’m pretty sure I’d crush you baby,” 

Without missing a single beat, he shakes his head. This time, there’s a faint hint of a blush on his face. 

“I don’t care. I.. really want to,” ― he looks up at you with the most curious eyes you’ve ever seen ― “Please?” 

You’re not sure how to feel. The possibility of mishap is enough to make you want to reject him again but he looks so hopeful. The idea of your beloved boyfriend walking around sulking is guilt-inducing enough to make you sigh and give in. He smiles when you nod. 

You walk over towards him, only really planning on giving him a kiss. You’d been out most of the day and were planning on taking a night-shower after dinner. 

“Okay, well - let me shower first and -” 

He shakes his head, almost petulant. Strong arms wrap around your waist as he drags you down to his lap with an urgency he can’t seem to contain. You yelp audibly, hearing soft breaths in your ear. Something twitches to life underneath you as soon as you sit, making your eyes grow wide. 

“Can’t wait that long and..I like it better like this,” 

Your eyes grow wide. The “this” remains vague but you’ve caught onto how Todoroki seems to like you more before you’ve showered than after. Still, it makes your skin hot. You want to argue with him - about to protest and struggle out of his grip but all of a sudden his voice goes raspy. Soft and low against the nape of your neck. 

“Please, my love. I really want to,” 

You swallow the saliva in your mouth, mind blanking at the sound of his voice. It goes right to your core, a pleasant throb in your shorts. You’re still wearing your apron and PJ’s. You agree maybe too easily, weak to him and his desires. 

“Fine but how do you want to...? On the couch..?” Your words come out unusually meek. You’re never such a nervous person there’s something thick in the air. Palpable desire that makes you weak. 

A warmth settles in your skin as he wastes no time, undoing your apron and letting it fall to the floor. Slender, pretty fingers go into the waist band of your shorts and without a second thought, he helps you slide them off your legs. 

It’s almost like an inspection, how you’re sprawled over his thigh. It’s all happening so fast - your mind moves too slow to keep up. His pointer finger drags across your clothed cunt, chin resting over your shoulders. His brow furrows at the wet-spot on them. A whine leaves you in embarrassment that he ignores. 

“You’re wet already.. sorry to make you impatient,” 

The apology is so genuine you’re not sure how to reply. 

“Here.. I’ll lay like this and you can rest your knees on the cushion,” 

You move off of him and stand to see what he means. He gets himself comfortable, head resting on the armrest of the couch. You blink as he gestures to where you should place yourself. When he says sit on his face, he means sit . He means lean forward so your ass is facing him. The realization hits you like a truck. 

Out of obligation, all the furniture in your house is lavish and this couch is no exception. All white and big enough that you could spread out on it without much effort. You know you’ll fit but you hesitate. Todoroki looks at you patiently but you can practically feel how much he wants it. 

With a little help, you manage to get into position. It’s a little humiliating - the feeling of his warm breath fanning your cunt. You’re still just hovering above him, and you squirm around as best you can. So nervous you think you’ll pass out. 

“Are you sure you want to ― aah!,” 

Without a word of warning, Todoroki pulls you down until the full weight of you ends up on his face. Your panties are still on but he doesn’t seem to pay any attention, his tongue lapping at your clit with such fervor you can’t help but moan. The angle from which he eats you hits the spot so perfectly, works you up until your pussy is practically drooling on his face. 

You let out a feverish squeal at the pleasure, still light but overwhelming enough that you’re wiggling away. Every now again between licks, he lets out a deep groan that vibrates against your sex so sweetly. Your stomach churns as your hands splay on his abdomen. 

“Sh-shouto my, fuck - my panties, you’re gonna get them, hmph” 

He lets you up, ever so briefly, just to whisper a hoarse “sorry,” move your panties just to the side before making you plunge right back down onto his tongue. You taste sweet and slight - but it’s better after a long day. So much stronger in his mouth, he can’t enough of it. 

Saliva and slick drip down his chin and cheeks, further fueled by the way you whimper above him. He eats you out very often but it’s different like this - you can’t go anywhere because his arms are secure around your thighs and his tongue keeps slurping so greedily at your swollen clit. He’ll stop just to feel it pulsate before carrying on with incredible enthusiasm. 

And he moans through it like it turns him on more than him fucking you. You’re honestly inclined to believe it might. His hands that rest on your ass, spreading you apart so he can go just that much deeper. Your nerves are being worked, the sheer stimulation is too much for you. He’s overzealous and shameless about it too. 

“You taste so good my love, fuck” 

Hearing him speak to you makes tears well at your eyes. He slides his tongue over your puffy clit over and over until he hits a rhythm. The constant feeling of pleasure sparks again and again and again until an orgasm so steadily builds in you. 

“Shouto, shouto - baby, please! Slow down or I’ll c-cum,” 

He heard you, he must have because if anything he goes that much faster. So fast that you’re practically sobbing his name, drooling and blindsided as the coil in your belly snaps. You cum so hard and so fast, you think you’re going to see your maker. Your toes curl and your walls flutter. A high whine leaves your mouth. 

“Baby, no more - can’t anymore,” 

He stops but only to speak with an almost delirious voice. Deep and possessive as his hands bury into your hips. 

“I’m not done yet” 

You realize a second too late what you’ve just gotten yourself into. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are Weird: D&D Part 3

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Human Barbarian: I roll to decapitate the shop keeper. Alien DM: Is there a reason you keep on decapitating LITERALLY everyone you meet? Barbarian: My character can’t die unless he falls in battle. Alien DM: But they aren’t battles if you kill them in one blow. Barbarian: True, but my guy has been around for hundreds of years and now just kills people for fun. Alien DM: *Looks at other party members* Is this normal? Wizard: Honestly it’s pretty tame for a barbarian. Rogue: At least he’s not the bard that became a necromancer. Alien: What happened with them? Wizard: They became a necromancer just so they could woo the woman that killed herself after talking to him. Alien: *Looks at Necromancer* Really? Necromancer: I was very proud of my seduction streak and I wasn’t about to let death break it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien: Why do you always pick humanoid characters? Alien: Why not team up with something that is as large as a bear? Thief: We used to have a Loxodon fighter in the party, didn’t end well. Alien: What happened? Monk: We got trapped in a room flooding with water and only one way out. Warlock: The Loxodon insisted on going first through the doorway because they were afraid of water, but then became wedged in the tiny frame and couldn’t get free. Alien: How did you escape? Monk: We didn’t; we all drowned to death. Alien: If you all died then how are you here talking with me? Thief: Let’s just say we owe a man of questionable magic practices a lot of money. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warrior: Wizard, cast fireball on my sword! Alien Wizard: Why? Warrior: So it will catch on fire and do fire damage as well! DM: I’ll allow it. Alien Wizard: Okay. *rolls a nat 20* DM: Your fireball impacts the sword dead on and melts it instantly. Warrior: What? DM: What do you think happens to cheap metal after it’s been super-heated? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DM: As you sift through the remains of the now fallen lich lord you come across his most powerful weapon. Alien players: *getting excited* DM: A cursed blade slaked in the blood of a thousand thousand victims, each one adding their strength to whomever wields this mighty blade; the most powerful weapon you have ever come across. Alien players: *Really excited now* Alien warrior: Does it have a name? DM: *Nods* It is called……the Bunny Fluffer. Alien warrior: What? You can’t be serious. DM: I did say it was a curse blade. Alien: How can a blade called the “Bunny Fluffer” be cursed?!? DM: Every time you use it in battle you must loudly announce that you are attacking with the bunny fluffer. Alien warrior: You monster! That’s so evi- Alien warrior: *Now realizing why it is cursed* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human: If I feed a Locathah sushi, am I committing a hate crime or unknowingly making them a cannibal? Alien DM: WTF man?!?!? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: You find yourself in a very suspicious village. Alien: You can’t just label an entire town as suspicious. Human: Roll a perception check then. Alien: *Rolls 20* Human DM: You see the town square barren save for a giant stone slab at the very center, the surface of it covered in strange red glyphs that seem to bleed the longer you stare at it. Human DM: The towns people all full length cloaks that hide their appearance with hoods so deep you cannot make out a single detail of their faces. They speak no words nor make a sound as they shift and to and fro between the buildings. Human DM: You stare up at the sky and see it thick with grey clouds that appear to bulge and retract randomly as if they are holding something within. Alien: Alright, alright, we get it. Alien: No need to be so on the nose about it. Human: You walked passed a mass murder drenched in blood because one of you saw the bar tenders dog run outside and wanted to go pet it. Human DM: I take no chances now. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: You find yourself locked in the mansion, the body of the host laying across the ballroom floor as all the guests and staff look on. Alien DM: Any one of them could be the killer. Human Warlock: I say we lock all the doors and burn the house down. Human Paladin: What? Human Rogue: That’s a bit extreme. Warlock: Listen, I’ll cast a spell that will make anyone with a guilt free conscious fire resistant. Warlock: That way when the house is on fire only the killer will catch fire and everyone else would be safe. Rogue: I guess that might work…. Paladin: Still… Warlock: Look, I’ll even stay inside to prove how trust worthy it is while you all wait outside and bar the doors. Paladin: Very well. *some time later after the mansion burned down* *Party sees only the warlock remaining among the ashes* Paladin: Impossible! Paladin: They couldn’t all have been the killer! Warlock: True, but their minds were not guilt free so I’m afraid they caught fire. Rogue: So you knowingly just had us kill an entire mansion’s worth of people. Paladin: How are you still alive?! Warlock: Simple; I did not feel the slightest bit guilty about it. Warlock: *Proceeds to remove an artifact that collects the souls of the recently deceased* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: Pick your characters. Human: I am a Halfling necromancer. Human 2: I am an elf necromancer. Human 3: I am a human necromancer. Alien: Seriously?! Alien: Does no one want to be something else? Human 4: I am an orc shaman. Alien: Well thank y- Human 4: That dabbles in necromancy. Alien: Gods damnit! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Human DM: And with that you have finally slain the great dragon Human DM: The town of Scabersburgs will forever be in your debt. Alien Wizard: That was a stupid encounter, let’s end it here. *Human DM makes note as the group leaves for the night* *Next week’s encounter* Human DM: You return to find the town of Scaversburg in the grips of a deadly plague. Human DM: The town’s folk are being driven mad as over the last few days many of them have begun growing scales across their body, talons where their fingers once were, and some have even begun sprouting lizard like wings and tails. Human DM: As they see you all return to the village their collective shouts of anger roar across the town as the entire city springs forth to hunt you down. Alien Wizard: Wait what!? Alien Wizard: I call bullshit; how could this suddenly happen?! Human DM: Well, if you had waited long enough to hear the dragons dying words he placed a powerful curse on his blood that any who should drink of it shall become as he once was. Alien Wizard: That’s still bullshit! Alien Wizard: No way the villagers would just walk up to a dead dragon and drink its blood. Human DM: Unless because you failed to dispose of the body the blood seeped into the ground and mixed with the towns water supply, thus contaminating everyone. *Group angrily looks at Wizard that encouraged them to leave early* Human DM: Roll for initiative. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alien DM: As you make camp deep within the frost mountains of Galgieth you find that your provisions bag has torn open and you have no food to eat. Alien DM: Unless you act quickly you will starve to death. Wizard: I got this. Wizard: *Turns to barbarian* Wizard: Cut off my left arm. Barbarian: Done! *rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Confused* You chop off the left arm of your wizard, the limb falling lifelessly to the ground as spouts of blood pour out. Wizard: I cast regeneration to regrow my severed limb. *Rolls a nat 20* Alien DM: *Still confused* Your left arm grows back as if it was never gone. Wizard: I put my severed limb over the open fire to cook. Alien DM: You want to turn your party into cannibals? Rogue: Wouldn’t be the first time.

[dboliklover]

Breathless Whispers - Shu

My new series. Will take a while to complete (don’t mind the fact I am STILL working on the Easter Smut series). It’s based off an ask I got and is very sinful and I implore everyone who is triggered by the following to NOT INTERACT WITH THIS SERIES. The tags will vary from each entry but “Breathless Whispers” is a SAKAMAKI BROTHERS X STEPMOTHER! READER Smut series. As such Cheating/Adultery and pseudo-incest/stepcest are always going to be included in the chapters. 

Tags for this chapter: Stepcest/pseudo-incest, cheating, NTR (Netorare) ((Karlheinz gets cucked)), dub-con (the reader believes she has feelings for Shu), dubiously-consensual implied impregnation, mentions of pregnancy, blood, and my out-of-practice smut writing skills that border on cringe, Happy sex (?) 

This is as vanilla as it’s gonna get for this series, methinks. Next chapter it’s Reiji’s turn. ;) Happy sinning ❤

WORD COUNT: 5.8K (11 pages)

___

In his life, Shu learnt to try to ignore meaningless things around him and to feel as precious little as possible - he didn’t need to feel, it added no enhancement to his life. To love was to have weakness and those he loved and cared for often ended tragically.

It was only natural that he chose to stick to himself and become a solitary creature after all that he’s been through, was it not? Solitude meant safety. Slowly but surely Shu cut as many emotions away with a metaphorical knife as he could, opting instead to be careless regarding all matters. He didn’t need anyone else, just himself. Only himself.

But there was one emotion that refused to leave, one emotion he would never allow the chance to withdraw from his heart - hatred. Pure, unadulterated loathing towards the man who caused his, his brothers’ and their mothers’ tragedies - Karlheinz. The hatred he felt was coated by a layer of would-be indifference - he knew better than to challenge the man, at least for the meanwhile - memories from the North Pole haunted him still. His father was a cruel, demanding man and Shu felt abhorrence, perhaps it did not reach the hatred felt by some other brothers but it was there and undying.

Karlheinz’s largest sin of all was the pain he caused his mother - the burdens he put onto him were a close second, however. But Beatrix’s suffering still wounded Shu to think about even after so many years had passed. The guilt instilled in him from that time flowed through his veins, unrelenting. His mother had her streaks of emotionally tormenting him but after all she merely wanted to prepare him for a difficult life ahead and Shu missed her presence as demanding as it was. And that was why when his father chose to re-marry yet again, Shu felt nothing but slight pity for the bride but regardless, he felt towards her as he did with most things; wholly indifferent. That was, of course, until he got to know the woman - he recalled the wedding day, it was a boring event and the fact his appearance had to be publicly seen bothered him for he’d much rather be doing anything but - still, he did as told and attended, albeit with minimal effort.

You made for a blushing bride, he couldn’t deny that. Glamorous appearance was hardly something he heeded though, and his father was known for choosing beautiful women as his wives - you knew nothing of the terrible fate that was bound to befall you in the coming months or years. At least all the other wives were long dead, namely Cordelia (whose torments only fed into the neglect his father served his mother, furthering her agonies) so you’d have no other competitors for Karlheinz’s horrid affections. He felt nothing for you, then. But unbeknownst to him, that detachment would not last forever and soon thereafter Karlheinz sent his bride away to live with his sons: what drove his father to such a foolish decision baffled Shu and he felt it somewhat of a ploy, another experiment to conduct. Maybe it was, but then again it only wasted time and energy to speculate on what went through Karlheinz’s mind. But you were their new stepmother, not one of their sacrificial brides; that was made clear, if unspoken. You were not their shared property but the property of the vampire king and it was to be respected, even if you had a puppet authority or no true power over them.

He avoided you at first, in his mind getting to know anyone was worthless;  and yet you persisted under the guise of ‘getting to know’ him and the others, wanting a relationship with your new stepsons. None of them really wanted a relationship with you, except for perhaps Reiji who hoped that you’d speak well of him to his father, ever-the-suckup.

You were a vampire of course, although it was surprising to learn that you were not a pureblood as they were. Karlheinz always made his decisions for a reason and he knew the reason for marrying you wasn’t love: therefore must’ve been something else entirely.

Karlheinz was incapable of love.

Gradually he found himself enjoying your attempted affections and voice - you figured out his disposition and chose to talk to him without expecting anything more than grunts and hums in return, knowing he preferred to listen to his music. Even he wasn’t sure at what point in your relationship he started to favour the sound of your melodious voice to his earphones, but it happened and he soon found himself turning down the volume as you spoke about your day if only to listen to your sweet voice far more vividly. He started to seek you out, something...unusual growing in his soul at the sight of you - he began appearing in places you were around the mansion, silently guarding you against the likes of the others (such as Laito). He liked being around you - a feeling he’d lost long ago ever since the “death” of Edgar - true companionship. But it couldn’t last perpetually, as nothing ever could, and those amicable feelings grew until they bloomed into something far darker than protectiveness towards his new stepmother and prospective friend - his heart yearned for you in the most unusual ways. It was troublesome for an overwhelming variety of reasons, primarily because he couldn’t have you. His romantic intentions soon turned to a subtle obsession. He needed to be close to you, always there - watching.

You’d always smile and greet him pleasantly, innocently - how on earth you could be so innocent after centuries’ worth of living on this earth, much less so after marrying Karlheinz, he had no clue. Your naivety and sweet nature brought him to you, made him fall into insanity because of you. It wasn’t instantaneous, things rarely were. Months went by but eventually he could no longer cope, his dreams were haunted by your form and always the exact same: you laid nude, breasts perfect and demure for him to corrupt, moaning out his name like the most delightful song from an ephemeral musical meant only for him. But when he awoke he was alone.

You tempted him without even knowing it but it was only a matter of time before it would come back to haunt you, he couldn’t be expected to have control over his instincts and needs forever and the time came when he finally snapped.

Stepmother or not, he was going to have you. In a way, it served as the most exquisite form of perceived vengeance towards that man - to steal his wife. He was hesitant about how to approach his desire to seduce you, such things were really more of Laito’s expertise, but he’d be damned if he failed to achieve his goals. You were too good for Karlheinz - a kindly thing to the point of intoxication and frustration, too pure for a vampire. He wanted to be the one to fully spoil your spirit, he wouldn’t permit his father to shatter your psyche as he did with all his previous wives. Shu was going to protect you, but in order to do that he first had to take you; claim you for himself. And that’s when he came across the most intriguing sight: your hushed moans of pleasure as your [slender/chubby/elegant] fingers stroked your glistening cunt in your private chambers - the same chambers which were supposed to be blessed in sacred matrimony if only his father hadn’t left you here all alone at the mercy of his ravenous sons. He must’ve assumed such a thing would happen sooner or later, hadn’t he? If not, then...well, Shu couldn’t help but think it his father’s loss from his own folly. “Shu.” Your angelic voice uttered his name - not his father’s, not your husband’s - but his. In your moment of unholy ecstasy, it was him on your mind; thoughts of him that edged you to your bliss. His obsessive passions were returned to him in kind, it seemed, and he couldn’t be more glad.

“Shu?” You questioned the following evening at dusk, that blossom-pink blush dusting your cheeks like an undead Aphrodite, tempting him further into his hidden lustful hunger, “Is...is everything okay? You’ve been staring at me all evening and I just wanted to ask if there’s something wrong-” He sighed, eyes half-lidded as if tired but it was his internal frustration revealed. “There is.” “Oh?” You pouted and fuck, he wanted to bruise your plump lips right there and then until they held his mark. “You really are more trouble than you’re worth,” It was a lie, of course, but he was a guarded man and his words reflected that. “Shu…? What do you mean?” The sadistic aspect of him was fuelled by the subtle distress in your eyes, however, you tried to remain calm, he’d said harsher things and you knew he scarcely ever meant them but something...something seemed so offbeat tonight. No, not just tonight - as of recently, but you couldn’t place a finger on the exact date when things began to change between you.

Your hands were down, pressed together as your thumbs nervously rubbed the other. You just wanted answers. “Heh,” He smirked, “You have no idea how alluring you are, do you?” His tired eyes stared earnestly into your soul and you felt stripped of your integrity. An innocent blush flooded your visage with lecherous embarrassment at such a sensual suggestion, sputtering out various syllables as you rushed to find your footing and speak out in protest of such an inappropriate topic between mother and son - that was what you were, related or not...you were his mother, even if merely by marriage. Guilt clogged your throat up as you thought of your own lust for your stepson, he was only slightly younger than you were and handsome beyond compare (as much as you loathed to admit it, your carnal self preferred Shu’s indescribable silent grace and steely blue eyes to the snowy tresses of his father) and disgust for yourself stung you deeper than a knife dipped in holy water - had he...witnessed your acts of depravity in your chambers? Did he know? “S-Shu, I...I don’t know what you mean,” You were drowning, unable to form proper words, “Don’t.” He cut you off before you could deny what you both knew at that moment. You weren’t as innocent and proper as you made yourself out to be. As you wished to be. No, you were a creature of tainted prurience and Shu was more than happy to play into your fantasies. You paled and nodded, if you were human your heart would’ve surely been palpitating by now. Fear wholly consumed you - would he be disgusted by you - no, he would’ve made that clear by now. Shu hid his thoughts and feelings from others but if he’d felt abhorrent disgust he wouldn’t have chosen to speak to you or indeed even be around you, you trusted that truth if nothing else. But then there was only one explanation for his demeanour, one that made you clench your thighs tight as you stood before him, a woman. He stood from his seat, no longer laying on the windowsill. “You’ve been a terrible wife,” Tears of crimson welled in your eyes while your knees felt weak but you nodded, ashamed. “Yes.” “And a filthy mother,” His harsh breath on your ear and neck made you whimper, “Y...yes,” You stuttered out with another whimpering moan, “Shu please don’t toy with me, I’m sorry I-” Without another sound escaping your painted lips you felt the amorous pressure of your stepson’s kiss, disclosing the intense emotions he returned for you. Your mind screamed at you for your sins and yet you were both inhuman creatures; Perpetuity of faithfulness was boresome and your husband had done little but ignore you and your hopes for a good life. Shu, however, had been there since the beginning of your marriage - even if you’d started out as nothing more than his father’s wife - now you were so much more, immensely more. Your knees buckled as you gave into the kiss, unable to avoid your feelings for him a second longer - you needed him just like this and he needed you too.

Human or not, the inherent wrongness burned your flesh and chest. You’d tried to be a good wife but your husband had practically abandoned you here with his sons bred for him by other women, he’d left you here and did little to even write to you. Loneliness was an obvious side-effect and it was only a matter of time before you would’ve fallen into another’s arms. But your debauchery brought you right into his son’s embrace. A terrible wife indeed.

Shu devoured your moans, swallowing your lust and increasing his own as his ample size grew in the confinements of his pants. “Fuck,” He huffed out as you pulled away from him, blinking. Your thighs burned with a need only he could satisfy. A shy hand wandered down his body towards his growing erection, stroking it from the fabric of his pants. Your efforts were rewarded by the sound of his deep groans. How long had it been since anyone touched you like this? Since you’d been able to make someone feel unutterable pleasure - since anyone made you feel wanted? You had slept with Karlheinz only a couple of times and he failed to sate your inner hunger as Shu was doing with only kisses and loving groans. “You’re playing with fire,” He breathed out, staring at you and sealing you in place. “I...know,” You swallowed thickly, “P-please, I...I need-” “What do you need, whore?” His teasing words of degradation made you feel alive, you were the object of his uttermost attention. His lips traced your neck, licking and gnawing but never piercing, fangs flying over the tender flesh. “You.” The certainty in your otherwise meek voice nearly made him burst right there. He was done restraining himself, pearly fangs sharper than needles pierced your neck as Shu drank the sweet nectar beneath. Your pleasured moans filled the hallways of the Sakamaki manor and he prayed his brothers could hear you wherever they were knowing that he won you. And he was going to keep you. You were going to no longer be just his stepmother - you would be his woman.

The blood, thick and plentiful, dripped down your neck. The droplets were not wasted as his tongue gathered them before they could drip onto the marble flooring. Shu was going to get addicted to this taste - your taste - he was sure of it. This was what you were made for; to belong to him. As he did this you toyed with his pants, unzipping them and releasing his erect cock from its prison, letting it spring free, wet with precum. “Oh fuck,” You whimpered at the sensation, pumping up and down his length. You wanted this, you wanted him so badly. You could feel yourself slowly dripping with clenched thighs. This was wrong - it was revolting - but you couldn’t stop the heat inside you, your inner desires. On your quest to befriend your sons you inadvertently ended up falling in love with one of them and never before had you longed to be held by someone as you did when you were with him.  

You wanted to be his, no one else’s. But you couldn’t be, for you already were a taken woman; despite the truth, you wanted to succumb to your immorality; to pretend that, for tonight alone, you were his.

Once he pulled away from your neck Shu chuckled lowly, “You’re such a lewd slut, mother.” You cringed at the name, reminding yourself of the positions between you two and, for a short-lived second, you attempted to pull away except the moment you did he caged in on you, back shoved against the wall with burning eyes glaring at you. “But you’re going to be my slut from now on.” his breath hitched as your hand movements sped up, blushing crimson from your wicked sensuality. You were loving this, in all its sinfulness. “Y-Yes,” You choked out submissively as you brought him to his edge, creamy cum coating your hand and sinking into the fabric of your dress, physically tainting you. It drove you wild.

The sight of you in front of him, dress dripping with his cum made him hard almost instantly as he ordered you to strip for him after he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the empty music room - he didn’t want to be interrupted by any of his bothersome brothers.

“Strip for me.”

You nodded and bit down harshly on your lip, droplets of blood still flowing from your neck at the open puncture wound, staining the white semen-soaked fabric as you unzipped the back and slowly released your hold on it as it fell down your form until you were exposed in only your undergarments, intimate and raw. This was incredibly embarrassing and yet, for him...you didn’t mind humiliating yourself. You were convinced of it, now: you were in love with him. Soft hands twirled around to unclip your bra, feeling as though it wasn’t merely your body which you were exposing to him but your very being as your breasts bounced free from the cups’ confinements, bra forgotten as you threw it down onto the floor, not caring about anything else but him. ‘Don’t do this’, your sanity pleaded but whatever morality may have existed in the cage of your heart was extinguished with a single gaze into his yearning eyes. If you didn’t do this the lack of his touch on your skin would surely drive you insane. You just wanted to be loved, cherished and used.

You were married - and although that sentiment alone should have been enough to snap you out of this sexual haze you were trapped in, it did little to sway your lust-filled judgement. Swallowing nervously your fingers dipped below the strips of your panties, sliding down your silky thighs, pride consumed you as you watched his subtle but intense reactions, the way his thick member twitched in anticipation made you feel powerful for the first time in your life. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. “Come here,” He growled, making you squeal as you nodded like a good little whore and fell onto your knees, crawling over to him - you felt like putting on a show for him, filled with risque concupiscence. If your husband was to ever find out you feared the consequences and despite the dangers, it drove you further into the arms of his eldest son to consider how taboo, how wrong such a union was. There was something unspokenly intimate about this. An intimacy from which you never wished to awaken. As soon as you were at his feet you admired his cock, glistening from residue cum in the moonlight. “Oh God,” You were about to cross a border from which you could never return and it turned you on profoundly to think about how your relationship would develop from here. Opening your mouth, you took his length inside your warmth, (e/c) eyes staring up at him like a sweet gazelle, pumping your head up and down and twisting your tongue around him as you sucked his member with a fierce determination to please. He believed this was the closest to heaven he would ever be; you, his personal fallen angel at his feet, his cock in your mouth.

Shu thought you were perfect just like this; doing all the work as you fucked your mouth on his cock, giving him your all as he sat back, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the pleasure you were providing. You were so good for him, such a pretty girl. Such an ideal woman, his woman. Further lewd commentary fell from his lips as he prompted you on. He wanted you on your knees for him each night, and you would be. He would make sure that things would stay this way forever now he was so close to having you all to himself. Even if it meant having to fight against his father, even if it meant the most intensive of efforts and having to use all the energy he had stored in his muscles - though he’d never utter it aloud, for you he would do anything.

Even if the only way to keep you would be to commit patricide. You were worth it. Just before his release, he pulled your head back by gripping your hair forcefully causing a pained yell to escape from you, your voice full of physical anguish that set off a primal need within his chest. “That’s enough.” He then lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, “Ride me.” You gulped back the juices in your mouth and shakily stood as your thighs were flooded with slick. “Y-Yes I…” You blushed vehemently as you aligned yourself with his cock, sucking in a sharp hiss as you felt the heat of it against your burning cunt. “I want you to make me yours.” Instantly you sat down, thighs clenched as your walls adjusted to the intrusion, making you cry out in ecstasy. Did you seriously almost orgasm simply from having his length inside of you? You couldn’t be blamed - not when your husband had neglected you. But it was going to be all better now that Shu was here to help you. Just as a good stepson should. “Fuck,” He gasped out quietly, breath falling from his chest. You were so fucking tight he could’ve potentially fooled himself into believing you were still virginal. That was, of course, until he reminded himself that his father stole that honour for himself and elicited underlying rage in Shu. With the buck of his hips he drove himself inside you as you cried out his name, holding tightly onto him, arms tied around his neck as you rode him, clumsily moving your hips and revealing your sexual inexperience to him; the knowledge that his father didn’t seem to take any time cherishing your body like this, lewd and sinful, eased him somewhat because it meant he could be the one to make you completely lose your mind and become his perfect little whore.

Maybe he’d even make you his wife, along the way.

His arms held your waist and he lazily guided the movement of your hips. You were insatiable, rapid. He could tell you wanted to go faster but his strong hands consistently ceased your attempts - he was going to force you to take your time, to truly feel the way his cock filled your insides, to ensure your walls would take the shape of his dick.

He wanted you to know that he was superior to his father, that no one could ever please you better. He never felt so attached to anyone prior to you, you did something to him. Something dark. Enchanting. And he was never going to let you go after this. By giving your body to him, you have given yourself in your totality.

Even if you didn’t know it quite yet, or didn’t fully apprehend the consequences sex with him would bring.

Your whines became far more desperate with each blunt thrust. Slow, steady but forceful; Shu’s cock reached into the deepest parts of you, lovingly rubbing your cunt. It was indisputable that he was focused on your enjoyment as much as he was on his - it wasn’t anything like what sex with Karlheinz was like, he was self-gratifying and solely cared about his own high, Shu (much to your surprise) paid attention to your smallest reactions to ensure this was as great for you as it was for him. His fingers delved below and started to mercilessly torment your clit, electricity flying through your spine and cunt clenching as more love juices were produced, soaking his cock and helping to lubricate the thrusts.

He wanted to show you how mindblowing sex with him could be, to show you he could love you in ways no one else ever could. In the eyes of his brothers, especially in Reiji and Ayato’s point-of-view, he was the one who got everything; the golden, careless heir. But they did not and would never understand that he had everything he didn’t want. His entire life the things he truly yearned for were stolen from him, his happiness, his innocence, his friends and beloved companions of human and animal kind; destroyed, ruined, killed. It reared his indifference to the material goods he possessed for they held absolutely no value of their own. And now there was you. You, you, you. Sakamaki Shu knew that, without a single shred of disbelief, he would happily give up all of this if it meant he got to keep you. All the wealth and grandeur and power that his position brought was worthless in comparison to his beloved whore whimpering above him as she impaled herself on his cock.

“S-Shu,” You moaned out into his ear, “Fa...faster, please,” You choked back spit as you made feeble attempts to catch your breath, the intense friction between your joined bodies making it difficult to think. It wasn’t as rough or primal as you initially thought it would be like, it was...better than that, intimate. Was this what they mean when they say sex can be ‘making love’? This closeness between bodies as they become one, the heat and passion in the air and bouncing breasts and thighs clasped around one’s lover? It wasn’t fucking - it was so much more. A proclamation of love, even, though you could never dare and utter that belief out loud. His self-satisfied comments, “Hm,” He playfully paused completely, making your eyes widen as you stared at him with desperation for him to continue, to let you reach your climax. Your nails scratched his back like a needy brat as you cried out pleas, “Please - please Shu, I need you to keep going I-” You swallowed thickly, blinking wildly as your core ached without movement and he kept your hips down, unable to fuck yourself on his dick regardless of how hard you tried. “Say you love me.” “W-What?” You gasped out, sweaty and needy but with enough common sense to know that saying something like that to him - even if it was true - would seal a secret deal between lovers, it would open all the nightmares of your very own Pandora’s Box.

But you loved him - you did, somewhere along the way you became enamoured by your stepson and now he was inside of you, fucking you with a tenderness that made you sure that he must love you, too. “I…” You smiled weakly, genuinely. You pulled back ever-so-slightly, (e/c) eyes sinking into his. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that he was finally permitting you to see; he trusted you with his heart, you could see that now. Your hand stroked his cheek, his hard dick still throbbing inside of you (you knew he wanted to keep going but held himself back, resolved to get what he wanted out of you). He melted into the caress, your hands were soft as angel feathers. “I am in love with you, Sakamaki Shu.” Despite the arousal that filled your mind you earnestly tried to convey the true depth of your affections for him and it seemed to awaken the beast of passion as he soon started to bounce you up and down his thick, throbbing member at a speed only vampires could achieve, determined to claim your womb for his own.

It wasn’t hard to notice your maternal longings, your desire to baby the boys despite their inherent aggression towards you all but proved it. And if was a baby you wanted, well...who was he to deny you of that right? His hushed grunts only sent you further into ecstasy - You had the power of feminine sexuality over him and it gave you somewhat of a power rush. It was paradise - not worthless fucking like animals - but true divinity here in his arms, where you felt appreciated and loved and as though you finally had a raison d’etre - You wanted to be his so badly it caused you physical anguish but you were his if only for the moment, connected to him so snugly. “I love you,” You sobbed out as tears welled in your eyes from the intense satisfaction and your own emotions coming to the surface, “I love you, I love you,” Each word sent Shu into a brand new dimension of rapture. You loved him, you loved him - more than anyone else in this world. If binding your bodies together didn’t officially make you his your whimpering confessions just did. The urge to impregnate you with his seed only grew with every passing moment as you mechanically moved in perfect timing to his thrusts, nails once again clawing at his flesh. “That’s a-” He inhaled sharply, stopping mid-moan, “That’s a good girl,” He breathed heavily, you felt so perfect on his dick, his personal cockslut, the love of his life, stepmother and soon; the mother of his children. “F-Fuck you’re going to look...fucking amazing,” He sighed out as he felt your fluttering walls try their hardest to milk him, “When you’re swollen with my troublesome brats, heh…” He could only smugly smile at your immediate reaction to the statement being to clunch down on him, tightening as if your womb was begging him to cum inside, to fertilise your pussy and breed you over and over. “Pregnant?” You exhaled out, teary-eyed as you locked your eyes with him, fucked out to the high heavens with sweat causing your hair to stick to your reddened forehead and lipstick smudged with perky, puffed lips. “Yo-You want to get me pregnant…?” The timidity of your voice betrayed your excitement. Logically you wanted to escape, to push him away and scold him for even suggesting such a thing - you couldn’t become pregnant with his child! It was atrocious enough that you were currently having this affair with him, your stepson, but to be bred by him was in a category all of its own - truly disgusting.

No matter how much your husband neglected you he didn’t deserve to for his wife to not only cheat on him with his own son but to be inseminated by him - but the inner beast within you was wanton, a silent whisper in your mind that tried to persuade you to surrender fully to your hopes for motherhood, to allow this man in front of you, this beautiful vampiric prince, to fill you with his seed and claim you as his bitch, his bride; to be stolen from the man you originally wed and live your eternity as Shu’s whore. “I-...we can’t, Shu! We-” Morals renewed, you tried to get through to him, “Please-” “Shut up.” He ordered and you instantly did as told, being the good girl that you were. “Don’t lie to me. You’re loving the-” He moaned, “-idea of...of my children growing inside of you. I felt you tighten up at the notion, you’re such a fucking lewd woman. My lewd slut.” You hated yourself because you knew he was right; it was true. You wanted this so badly, to give birth to his kin, to feel your uterus painted white with his cum. Primal needs craved relief. “No, we...we can’t, I...don’t…” You choked on your words as he kissed you roughly, his thumb on your clit twirling and pulling until you were unable to form anything more coherent than mindless stutters. “S-Shu! Fuck, fuck, fuck I...I...I love you! I do! I do, please I just...I want-” “What do you want, pretty whore?” “...I want, I w….want your cum! I need it, I need you to fill me up and get me pregnant!” The last remainder of your will crumbled under the pressure of your sudden orgasm. ‘I’m so sorry, Karl…’ you thought bitterly as amazement overtook you, making you screech in the midst of the night in the moonlight, squeezing the lifeforce out of your stepson’s dick. Shu groaned and laughed in dark victory as you came undone around him, biting into his neck instinctively mid-orgasm. The sharp sensation was enough to push him completely over the edge.

Your tongue lapped over his neck, sipping the blood that flowed with delicious fervour as the heat of his semen poured into your deepest depths, coating your womb with his lust. Once you pulled away you felt almost faint from the intensity of your love-making, concupiscence fading as the realisation of what you just did hit you in full force, causing your eyes to open. “Shu..oh fuck, I...we...just--” You squealed and tried to hop off but he kept your hips forced down, still inside your leaking cunt despite slowly growing soft. “No.” Shu was serious, now, eyes grave. “You’re not running away. You,” He exhaled, bringing your lips closer to his, “Are mine.” “Shu-” The distance between your lips was closed as he fought with your tongue. Your heart yearned to return his kiss and despite the inner war ongoing within your soul you did, tongues dancing in the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled away he smiled.

And you felt yourself smile too, hand travelling to the spot below your stomach but above your cunt. “You’re mine now, troublesome woman.” You laughed, nodding and kissed him again. The conflict within you wouldn’t fade, and you were terrified of what might happen now to yourself and to Shu. But maybe it won’t be that bad. It was only one time - you can surely find some form of birth control to ingest before the next time, and he’d never have to know. It was...one time, so you shouldn’t get pregnant this time...right?

Somehow you felt proud - proud to have his cum flowing from your core, to know it’s his seed that potentially is currently fertilising you and not your husband’s. You did feel authentically guilty but the guilt made you more aroused. Karlheinz didn’t deserve...this and despite that here you were, and the worst part was you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop anytime soon, there was no point in vowing to yourself that this would be the ‘last time’ because you knew that the moment he came inside you you were already addicted to him. The child of your lover...realistically it was an awful, unspeakable idea but a sense within you wanted to go through with it, to allow yourself fertility, to fully become his.

Little did you know you would have no choice in the matter.

[starcunin]

Astarion feels the weight of Amay’s words land like a punch to the gut, unexpected and deeply unsettling. “I have been with people, but not like this. Not with someone who I like.” It slices through him with a sharpness he hadn’t anticipated, a reminder of all the times he had been used——forced, really——into encounters where any semblance of affection or choice had been stripped away. For just a moment, he feels himself unravel.

Here Amay is, soft, vulnerable, and sincere, looking at him like he’s someone worth wanting. Genuine affection, the thing he had long stopped believing in. His body is a weapon, a tool, and his heart? His heart hasn’t been involved in anything for a very long time. Astarion’s fingers twitch slightly as the urge to pull away from Amay grows stronger. He can sense how much the tiefling is trusting him, how open he’s become in just a few moments of shared intimacy. But that trust is suffocating, wrapping around him like a noose.

He can’t do this——not tonight. He needs space, time to think, to push the guilt aside. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he could continue this game. With a full stomach and a clearer head, the guilt might not sit so heavily on his chest.

He’s just about to retreat, to bid Amay a smooth goodnight and slip away into the shadows, when Amay’s last question catches him off guard, freezing him in place. “But will you not do that anymore once you don’t like me enough?” The words hit harder than anything else Amay has said tonight, and for a moment, Astarion feels truly stuck. Not just physically, though he remains pressed against the tiefling, shoulders still touching——but mentally, emotionally.

The weight of the question lingers, unsettling him. It pulls at something deep within, something he’s not ready to confront. The thought gnaws at him, because it reminds him of all the times he’s been on the receiving end of that very thing. The very idea that Amay could view him in the same light as the monsters who used him stirs an uncomfortable mix of emotions he’s not ready to face.

But he masks it. He’s always been good at that. His lips curve into a practiced smile, the one that always comes so easily, so naturally. ❛ Well, do you plan on doing something to make me not like you? ❜ he asks softly, his tone light, teasing. His hand lifts to brush Amay’s cheek, the touch gentle, tender. ❛ Because if not, I think you’re in the clear, darling. ❜

He lingers for just a moment longer, his thumb tracing the curve of Amay’s jaw, before pulling away. ❛ Goodnight, Amay, ❜ Astarion says, his voice warm, though there’s a heaviness in his chest that he can’t quite shake. He rises from his spot, a fluid motion that barely disturbs the air around them, and with a final glance back at the tiefling, he slips away into the night. His smile fades as he turns his back to the fire, the weight of his own words still clinging to him like a shadow.

He feels the tiefling freeze beside him, the silence stretching longer than he anticipated. For a brief moment, doubt creeps in. Has he gone too far? It’s a fine line he’s walking, after all——a delicate balance between seduction and manipulation. But Amay doesn’t pull away, doesn’t recoil from the closeness. In fact, the tiefling seems to melt under his touch, content to let Astarion lead. So, he continues, gently stroking Amay’s hand, watching the way the firelight dances across their intertwined fingers.

Still, there’s a flicker of caution in Astarion’s mind. He can’t afford to lose this moment——not when the reward could be so sweet. The pounding of Amay’s heartbeat thrums in his ears, a tantalizing rhythm that stirs his hunger, but he pushes it down, savoring the closeness instead. A different kind of hunger, one that comes from the promises of protection, loyalty… and, eventually, sustenance. But for now, he’s content with this——the slow, intimate unfolding of trust.

❛ I do hope I’m not making you uncomfortable, ❜ Astarion murmurs, his voice a low, silky hum as his fingers continue their slow, teasing dance against Amay’s palm. ❛ I can be a bit… forward, sometimes. ❜ His smile softens, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. ❛ You’re much too enjoyable to ruin things with impatience. ❜

As he speaks, Astarion leans in further, his head tilting to rest lightly against Amay’s, his face pressing into the dark green curls that still carry the faint scent of sulfur and hellfire. It’s not unpleasant——in fact, it’s strangely intoxicating. ( But it could also be the blood he’s smelling, rushing just beneath that emerald surface, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. ) His lips brush the shell of Amay’s ear as he breathes in deeply, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. ❛ You smell… quite nice, actually. ❜ The words slip out like a confession, his breath warm against Amay’s skin. It’s playful, flirtatious, but there’s a truth beneath it that Astarion can’t entirely mask. He’s drawn to the scent, to the warmth, to the pulse of life so close to him.

Astarion carefully shifts Amay’s hand, setting it on his thigh as he continues to run his fingertips over the tiefling’s palm, the touch now more deliberate. His mind, though, is wandering to darker places——memories he has no interest in revisiting. For a brief, terrible moment, he’s reminded of Sebastian. The man who had once been so full of life, whose first kiss had been the very man to deliver him to the end that life. Delivered like prey to Cazador’s waiting fangs.

The thought twists something deep inside him, a pang of guilt that he’s long tried to bury. He suppresses it quickly, but the feeling lingers, gnawing at the edges of his mind. He’s not going to kill Amay, but the thought that his touch isn’t harmless gnaws at him. He’s leading Amay down a path, one he’s led many others before——seduction, control, manipulation. He has a choice now, he tells himself. But the truth is murkier.

Clearing his throat softly, Astarion pulls his hand back, letting the touch fade slowly, almost reluctantly. He keeps his shoulder pressed against Amay’s, not willing to break the connection entirely, but the sudden weight of his guilt forces him to slow down. ❛ We can take things as slowly as you’d like, ❜ he says smoothly, though there’s a strange heaviness to the words, an unfamiliar sadness lurking beneath the surface. ❛ I can respect any boundaries you might have, darling. I like you enough to do that. ❜ Another lie——he’s only saying what he thinks Amay might like to hear. But this time, it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

His smile wavers for just a moment, something conflicted stirring behind his eyes. It’s unsettling. When has anyone ever respected his boundaries? The thought is fleeting, but it sticks, unwelcome and uncomfortable. He brushes it away, fixing his expression back into one of teasing charm, but the feeling lingers, gnawing at the edges of his mind like a shadow that won’t leave him alone.

[besanii]

Oka so lxc has feelings. Amazing. How and when did he realise them?? Does wwx know?? How does he feel?? Are they gonna tell wangji?? Ahhhhhh i am dying thank you so much

[ part one (LWJ) | two (LXC) | three (WWX) | four (LWJ) | five (NQY) ]

Lan Xichen doesn’t touch him. Not the first night, nor any other night he has called upon Wei Wuxian in the month after he enters the inner palace.

Even though Wei Wuxian cannot help but be somewhat relieved—truth be told, he had been dreading that particular aspect of his duties as a consort—he knows it will have to happen eventually. Even if Lan Xichen himself insists there is no need, people are already talking, speculating on the true nature of their relationship, questioning whether there are ulterior motives behind his new status as an Imperial consort.

You must serve the Emperor well, Jiang Cheng’s most recent letter had read. Do not give them any opportunity to pull you down.

With Jiang Fengmian severely ill and unlikely to recover, the management of Yunmeng’s affairs have fallen onto Jiang Cheng’s shoulders under the guidance of his mother. And while Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan’s reputations maybe enough to keep Yunmeng’s adversaries at bay for now, if—when Jiang Fengmian passes, Yu Ziyuan alone would not be enough to fend off the vultures already circling around them, eager to be first in line to tear out a piece of the fresh meat.

Wei Wuxian crumples the letter in his hands.

He should be there with Jiang Cheng, supporting him, watching his back. Helping him forge his standing amongst the older generation of nobility. Doing what he can—what he must—to defend against those who wish to harm the ruling family of Yunmeng, as a loyal vassal should.

Instead he is here in the capital, trapped in the gilded cage of the Imperial harem, his wings well and truly clipped. 

Consorts are forbidden from interfering with politics on pain of death. 

It is the first cardinal rule of being an Imperial consort, and the one used to placate Qishan in the aftermath of his confrontation with Wen Chao. It is frustrating, to say the least—all his years of studying and training to one day become a pillar of support for both Yunmeng and Jiang Cheng gone to waste—but he contents himself with the fact that he is alive. And as long as he is alive, he will find a way to live.

--

“Wuxian.”

There is something deeply intimate in the way his name falls from Lan Xichen’s lips, something soft and gentle that stirs warmth in the recesses of Wei Wuxian’s chest, in the hollow left behind by Lan Wangji. It is immediately chased away by the guilt that curls in pit of his stomach at the thought, so he does not allow himself to dwell on it for too long. He schools his expression and turns to pay his respects.

“Your concubine greets Huangshang.” 

Lan Xichen is helping him upright with hands under his forearms before the words have fully left his lips; when he raises his head, he is greeted by the sight of Lan Xichen’s smiling face. He feels his own lips tug upwards in response.

“Huangshang looks to be in a jovial mood today,” he observes. “Will you share the good news with your concubine so that your concubine may also have something to celebrate?”

“Good news indeed,” Lan Xichen agrees. “Come, sit with me.”

He lets Lan Xichen lead him over to the table in the centre of the sitting room with a hand on his lower back and takes a seat, waiting patiently for Lan Xichen to settle himself in the seat beside his. The servants back out of the room at a wave of his hand, leaving the two of them alone. Lan Xichen takes his hand in both his, brushing his thumb tenderly over his knuckles with a tenderness that has Wei Wuxian’s heart tightening in his chest.

“Wuxian,” he says gently. “I know it has been difficult for you to be confined here in the Inner Palace for the last three months.”

“Huangshang...” Wei Wuxian feigns a smile. “Huangshang does not need to apologise. Your concubine understands the necessity.”

“I knew you would,” Lan Xichen says with a sigh. He squeezes Wei Wuxian’s hands. “Envoys from the Northern border tribes arrived today with their yearly tributes. Including fifty of their finest war horses.”

Wei Wuxian nods. “A generous tribute indeed,” he agrees. “I have heard the horses bred on the Northern plains are taller, stronger and faster than the ones we have here in Gusu. I’ve always wanted to see one for myself—”

“Is that so,” Lan Xichen says, patting the back of Wei Wuxian’s hand, expression deceptively thoughtful. The almost...playful tone catches Wei Wuxian’s attention at once.

“Huangshang,” he says slowly, suspiciously. “Would you perhaps be hiding something from your concubine?”

His suspicions grow with the twinkle in Lan Xichen’s eyes.

“Come with me and find out.”

--

He’d forgotten the feeling of the wind in his hair, the thrum of hooves pounding in the dirt beneath his feet, the warmth of the sun on his face as he throws his head back with an exhilarated laugh. The black stallion he’s riding tosses its head with a grunt, panting with exertion. Wei Wuxian pats its mane and tugs them both around to wait for Lan Xichen to join them.

“Wuxian,” Lan Xichen calls as soon as he is within earshot. “I see your horsemanship skills have not waned in the slightest. I willingly concede to your superior skills.”

“Huangshang is just out of practice,” he laughs, nudging his horse against Lan Xichen’s own. “And I cannot take all the credit. This is such a fine horse—I felt as though I were flying!”

He laughs again, loud and joyous, feeling as light as air. The hills beyond the outskirts of the city are reserved for Imperial use, so they are blessedly alone. Even the attendants have been ordered to remain in the palace, leaving only a small retinue of Imperial guards trailing behind them in the distance, enough to be within view, but completely out of hearing range. It is easy to forget the shackles of the palace, to pretend as though he is once again Wei Wuxian, the ward of the Marquis of Yunmeng, and not Wei Wuxian, the consort.

“I am glad you like it,” Lan Xichen tells him. “It is yours.”

Wei Wuxian whirls around, jaw dropping.

“Huangshang!” he gasps. “You cannot be serious—” He catches himself and his lack of composure, and clears his throat. “Huangshang, as the people say, one should not accept a reward without due. Your concubine has done nothing to deserve such a generous gift. I dare not accept it.”

Lan Xichen laughs and waves away his protests.

“After witnessing the way the two of you flew across the hills as though you would be one with the wind, there can be no other person more suited to taming this creature.” He reaches over to brush a stray wisp of hair back from Wei Wuxian’s face; his fingers linger over the arch of his cheek. “From now on, should you desire to ride again, I will accompany you.”

His touch is feather-light, fingers barely grazing, but Wei Wuxian feels it spark and tingle, vibrating beneath his skin like a plucked string, rippling through his entire body, freezing him in place. His heartbeat quickens and his face warms.

He is the Emperor.

He is only doing this out of pity, he reminds himself firmly.

He is your husband. Is it not improper.

It is, the other part of him insists. It is improper. It has only been three months—

He is kind. And he is honourable. Would it be so bad?

The sound of thundering hooves breaks the fragile silence between them. Lan Xichen sighs and withdraws his hand, curling it into a fist briefly before bringing it back to his side; if Wei Wuxian had not known better, he would have thought he looked annoyed by the interruption. But then the moment passes and the Emperor is back, expression level as the soldier pulls up alongside them and swings off his horse onto his knees.

“Huangshang, urgent report from the front.” 

“What is it?” Lan Xichen asks calmly.

“It’s Hanguang-wang.” Wei Wuxian stiffens and turns, startled, to meet Lan Xichen’s equally wide eyes. “He’s alive!”

--

buy me a ko-fi!

more paper-thin fic | verse

--

[rocorambles]

Home Schooling

Pairing: Stepdaddy!Meian x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, NSFW, Invasion of Privacy, Overbearing and Controlling Behavior, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Non-Con/Rape, Degradation, Overstimulation, Humiliation

Summary: Why would Meian let you go to college in Tokyo when he can teach you everything you need to know right here in Osaka?

A/N: Happy birthday @iwaasfairy ! Of course I need to dedicate my first ever Meian fic to you on this very special day~ I hope this fic manifests a real life DILF Meian for you!!!

Meian has always been protective, even before your mother’s untimely demise. You remember how uncomfortable you had been about this handsome man waltzing into your family home one day, acting like a father figure almost since day one. Only your love for your mother and your desire for her to find happiness again kept your mouth shut, although when she wasn’t in view, you not so subtly found ways to keep your contact with the older man as minimal as possible.

There’s nothing necessarily “wrong” with Meian. In all honesty, if he weren’t so overwhelmingly involved with your life, you’d even argue that he’s a great guy. You can tell he truly cares for your mom, maybe even loves her— although you gag at the cheeky winks and flirtatious touches they generously dote on each other in front of you. And you’re happy for her! You really are. It’s been a long time since you’ve been forced to rely only on yourselves, only on each other. You’ve seen how hard she’s tried, keeping a strong front whenever you’re around, working twice as hard as anyone else to try and fill the aching hole in both your hearts from the loss of your father. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s her.

But there’s something unnerving, even aggravating, about the way Meian interferes with every aspect of your life. You can’t help a strange foreboding feeling twisting inside of you as a heavy gaze trails after you wherever you go, as he begins to rope you into every conversation he has with your mother, almost demanding and insistent about not letting you withdraw to your room despite your well-meaning wishes to give them their privacy.

You try to be on your best behavior, not wanting to be the reason your mom’s new relationship is ruined, especially when you can see just how much she likes him. But every time he opens his mouth and questions everything you do, everything you wear, and everything you say, you can feel your temper rise, wondering where his audacity to act as a father figure comes from.

It’s easy enough to retreat to your room, closing your door and sighing in relief as you escape those sharp eyes. You find comfort in the fact that you have at least one safe place he can’t breach, finding false security in the hope that he’d never invade an adult woman’s bedroom. Except he does, and your heart drops when you notice the miniscule adjustments in your room — your underwear drawer slightly ajar with some pieces missing, your bedsheets slightly rumpled in a way you know you hadn’t left them this morning. Things you know you could never bring up to your mother without sounding like a madwoman. So without irrefutable proof, you keep quiet, knowing that at least there’s not much more time left before you can truly run away from all of this.

Being an adult comes with many responsibilities and adventures, and together, your mother and you pore over myriads of college pamphlets, debating which locations make the most sense, planning how you’re going to make the finances work, and thinking about which colleges have the courses best suited for you. It’s a fun and stressful rollercoaster, but you beam when your mother proudly ruffles your hair, when you both agree on you leaving Osaka behind and adventuring out, creating new memories and beginnings in a different city.

(“Plus, I’ll be able to visit you and play tourist”, your mom excitedly says, and you giggle, letting her affectionately hold you as you stare at the universities you’ve narrowed your choices down to.)

The future seems bright and exciting as you studiously sit down and scan over textbooks and practice exams, dutifully attending your tutoring sessions, cramming for the college entrance exam. It’s all going to plan, except Meian has different opinions. And this time, you can’t hold back the scowl when he yet again goes on and on about how he doesn’t understand why you can’t just stay in Osaka for college.

It’s not a new argument by any means. Just the same few questions being twisted and worded differently and tossed back in your face on a daily basis.

“Don’t you think your mom will be lonely if you move away and only come back for the holidays?”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for? To keep her company?”

“Don’t you feel bad about spending your mom’s carefully saved money on room and board when you could just continue living with us instead and just pay tuition?”

You silently thank your mom when she steps in, firmly telling Meian that she doesn’t mind, that this is exactly why she’s saved up.

But the arguments keep on coming, and you can feel the tension growing in your household, your own stomach churning with guilt and worry, wondering if you’ll end being the cause of their breakup after all as you constantly hear their raised voices going back and forth about you leaving or staying in Osaka.

So despite your discomfort and wariness towards Meian, you can’t help the relieved grin that stretches across your face when your mom comes squealing to you, flinging her arms around your body and shoving her gorgeous engagement ring in your face. You even muster up a slightly tight smile, that only feels a little forced, as you look to the tall man who leans in the doorway, muttering congratulations before directing your attention back to your mom, fondly smiling as she continues raving about her new piece of jewelry, ignoring the way Meian continues to loiter around the both of you.

Your mom is the most beautiful bride as she walks down the aisle and you stare in awe at how she glows, hoping one day you’ll look even remotely as mesmerizing as she does. And while you look on, star-eyed and in wonder, at the woman who had raised you, you miss the way dark eyes intently gaze at you, eyes that should be on the woman he’s about to publicly vow to be with his entire life.

Maybe if you had been more aware, more cautious, you wouldn’t have so eagerly waved both of them off on their honeymoon, wouldn’t have been so excited to shove your mom towards the airport, giving her one last hug and kiss before sillily demanding that she enjoy herself and have the best time of her life.

Maybe then your heart wouldn’t be shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as you collapse in Meian’s strong arms, sobbing uncontrollably and shaking your head in denial when he returns by himself and breaks the news of your mother’s passing.

You delay going to college in Tokyo for a year, allowing yourself time and space to grieve. Or so you had planned, but it seems that Meian has no intention of letting you have your privacy. You share the house with him after your mother’s funeral, unable to argue against him completely moving in when he now owns the property.

He’s still up to his usual overbearing ways, although his tone is softer as he treats you like a wounded animal, carefully handling you as he rouses you from your sleep in the mornings, startling you the first few times he sits on the edge of your bed and wakes you up by tenderly stroking your cheek, preparing all your meals for you and scolding you when he thinks you haven’t eaten enough. It’s almost frightening how easily you fall into his rhythm, not even flinching after a while when his large hand finds itself on your face, your shoulder, your back, your hand, your thigh. Tiny, seemingly platonic touches border the line of what’s appropriate for a guardian and their ward. Although, deep down, you know the two of you are diving in dangerous territory when you feel his knuckle brush against the swell of your ass briefly, his calloused fingertips quickly skimming your breasts, his palm squeezing just a tad too high up your thigh.

But you seek any remaining softness your mother had instilled in your heart for a man who’s lost his wife of just a few days, letting your new guardian (you don’t dare call him father) do as he pleases, not wanting to deal with any more conflict when your heart is still mending. And maybe, just maybe, you find some solace in his touches, in the love he forces upon you, seeking even just a hint of the parental affection your mother had bestowed upon you.

Time heals all wounds, or so they say. You can’t agree that it resolves everything, but you can admit that you’re feeling much better now that a year is almost up, ready to move on, live your life, and make your mother proud. You start re-looking into Tokyo housing, comparing the expenses of living off-campus versus living in the dorms, typing and reworking budgets over and over again in your Excel sheet until your eyes burn and you let out a huge yawn.

Coffee now. Budgets later.

You trudge to the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of dark caffeinated liquid, letting out a pleased sound when the aroma fills the air, happily making your way back to your room to revisit some of your calculations, mug in hand. But you freeze when you see Meian sitting at your desk, clicking through the different tabs of apartment and dorm options you had been looking at, scrutinizing your planned expenses.

There’s no reason for the guilt that claws at your chest when you see the way his jaw clenches as he turns to look at you, hurt in his eyes as he silently demands an explanation for what he’s looking at. But it’s guilt that has you slamming down the mug on your desk and planting your firsts on your hips in a confrontational stance, that has defensive angry words spewing from your lips as you yell at him for invading your privacy, that has you storming towards him and trying to shove his much larger and stronger frame away from your computer.

But it’s futile and you gasp when you’re pulled into his lap, his hands easily pinning you to him and holding you still as he holds you in a mockery of an embrace, your back against his toned chest, his mouth right against your ear.

“You were just going to leave for Tokyo without telling me?”

You want to stay angry, want to continue twisting and fighting against his grip. But the vulnerability you hear in his words has you staying still, has you anxiously biting your lower lip as you try and find the right words to soothe the man clutching you.

“I- I didn’t think I needed to tell you anything. This was always the plan. You knew I only put off attending college for a year to take some time for myself. But I’ll come back and visit during the holidays-”

Your words are cut off by a pained gasp as thick arms tighten their hold on you, but the growled threat in your ear has your anger bubbling over, masking any other feeling.

“You’re not leaving.”

The matter of fact tone, the final decisiveness of the words, the way Meian leaves no room for discourse or arguments, has you lashing out at him and before you can second guess yourself, the position you’re in, or the difference in power between the two of you. In a matter of seconds, you’re snarling right back at him.

“You’re not my father! You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

Righteous pride swells in your chest and you spare him a sharp, wicked grin, haughtily tilting your head up condescendingly, basking in the viciousness of your words. But what you aren’t expecting is the hearty laugh he responds with, something dark and gleeful swirling in his eyes as a cruel smile cuts across his face.

“You’re right. I’m not your father, not even your guardian. So this is fine, right?”

You scream as the arms still wrapped around you haul you up, your limbs thrashing and flailing as you try to force your way free from his iron grip to no avail. Fear and anger make you hysteric as you register the fact that you’re quickly approaching the room that once belonged to your mother, the room Meian now resides in. Disbelief and nausea overtake you when you’re assaulted by the familiar four walls as you’re haphazardly tossed onto the bed, sobbing as memories of your mother surround you and invade your thoughts while calloused hands easily tear your clothes off your body.

But you’re immediately silenced, sobs turning into choked whimpers as a large hand grabs the bottom half of your face, fingers digging into your cheeks, a palm suctioning your mouth shut.

“Where are all those manners your mother taught you? What would she think if she heard you throwing a temper tantrum like a child?”

The callousness of his words hits you like a ton of bricks. Meian smirks at the new round of fat, watery drops that stream down your face, mockingly cooing down at you, calling you a good girl, praising your newfound silence as his hand slowly drags down until it's wrapped around your neck, where he lightly squeezes, reveling in the adorable whimper you release.

But as pathetically amusing as you are, sniveling and choking under him, there’s more that he’s keen on seeing. You feel like a slab of meat under his observant gaze. Prized meat, but meat all the same as he runs his hands across your figure like a butcher testing the firmness of his livestock, pinching and prodding almost methodically, coldly. Only the amusement and hunger in his eyes are indicative of how much this is truly affecting him. Yet it’s tolerable, barely, if you just stare up at the ceiling, pretending you’re at an incredibly invasive medical exam.

He’d be offended by how hard you’re trying to ignore him if it weren’t for the telltale signs of your arousal that you desperately try to deny. He grins at how your nipples harden from just a few teasing circles, how your clit stands to attention, your pretty folds already beginning to glisten as he pets your velvety walls. You’re even more beautiful than he had imagined after watching you prance around the home in your skimpy loungewear. And suddenly, his pants are far too tight, cock straining uncomfortably against the fabric he’s quick to rip off. It’s music to his ears when you shakily say his name over and over again, as you try and resist the way he forces himself between your legs, hands spreading your thighs apart, toned body pinning you down, something hard nudging at your tight entrance.

“Meian, please. Please! Please, Meian.”

He ignores your tears, ignores the other words of resistance that slip past your mouth, head dipping down to your mouth and neck, kissing and marking every part of you he can reach, murmuring for you to call him by his first name. And when he loses patience with your whining, you finally acquiesce as he forcefully shoves himself balls deep inside you, a sneer ruining his handsome face as he lightly slaps your face in approval when you wail his first name, “Shugo” howled in an agonizing exclamation as you try to somehow dislodge him from ripping you in two.

“Look at that, the little slut can behave when she wants to. I bet your mother would be so proud.”

You hate how he drags your mom’s name in the ground as he defiles you, violates you in the bed they had once shared. You hate how his large frame feels crushing you, overpowering you, making you feel so incredibly helpless and weak. But mostly, you hate the slick lewd sounds your pussy makes as he pounds hard and fast into you, the undeniable proof that your body doesn’t hate this nearly as much as it should. Hot angry disgusted tears roll down your face as you glare up at him, desperately fighting back the rising moans threatening to humiliate you even more.

Your little defiant attitude is punished by Meian thrusting even harder into you, practically bending you in half as he pushes down on the back of your thighs, forcing you into a mating press. And he laughs at your wrecked face, hungrily taking in the way your eyes roll back in your head, the way your jaw drops wide open, your tongue and rivulets of drool trickling down your face, wanton moans loudly filling the room.

“For all your whining and complaining, you sure do look like you’re enjoying this, sweetheart.”

You wish you could deny his words, retort back with a scathing remark, do anything really. But when he reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs rapid circles against your erect clit, hips still pistoning against yours, cock stuffing you full, your mind blanks and an animal-like howl tears through the room as your body convulses, pussy walls clamping down and quivering as you cream all over the shaft still dragging against your sensitive walls, only heightening your peak.

Meian briefly wonders if this is what heaven feels like (or as close to heaven as someone like him is going to get) as he groans at the way your velvety walls milk his cock, gritting his teeth to not be dragged over the edge with you. He’s not delusional to think that any of this is right, the photo of his ex-wife, your mother silently watching you from the nightstand only emphasizing just how wrong this all is, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when you’re a fucked out mess underneath him, so obediently and submissively slurring his name over and over again, drowning in pleasure and bliss.

There’s nothing more he wants than to just lose himself in the feeling of your tight walls, to fill you, mark you, claim you with his seed, but he’s not quite ready for a full house just yet. He has a few more years alone with you all planned out in his head before he breeds your pretty little womb. So just as his control teeters on the edge, he pulls out of you, casually sitting back and spreading his legs, slowly stroking his cock as he orders you to come and suck him off.

He’s almost proud of the little fight you still have left in you, lips quirking upwards at the way you try to ignore him, trying to look anywhere but at him. But his balls are almost painfully tight, his cock aching for release.

“Suck me off like a good girl or I’m going to cum inside of you over and over again until you’re knocked up. Bet your mother would have loved that for you. Her precious college-bound girl turned into a pregnant uneducated whore.”

It’s an empty threat, but you don’t ever need to know that, not when it has you obeying so well as he threads his fingers through your hair, groaning as your hot wet mouth sinks down on his cock still covered in your essence. All it takes is a few harsh shoves of your face, his hand pulling you up and down like a warm fleshlight, and as he finally reaches his end, he completely pulls you off, arching your neck back in a way that leaves your mouth open as he spurts thick white stripes all over your face and in your orifice.

You make to wipe your face, grateful at least that this is all over, but before you can move even an inch, you yelp as you’re shoved back down on your back, hands instinctively trying to push at broad shoulders as your legs are once again forced open. You’re a quick learner though, and with one dark warning look from the man whose face is now hovering over your spent hole, you instantly bring your hands down to your sides, clawing and fisting the ruined bed sheets instead as Meian ravenously licks and laps at your dripping cunt. The disgusting wet sounds echo in your ears as pleasure and shame swirl inside of you, a crescendo ascending too quickly, too high.

But your thrashing and blissed out pleas to stop, to let you rest, only serve to whet Meian’s appetite even more. Time becomes surreal and meaningless as you drown and float in a mixture of pain and pleasure, brought to climax over and over again until you feel boneless, your pussy and body ceaselessly twitching, mind broken beyond repair as you babble incoherently, unsure of anything except the lips and tongue at work between your thighs.

You cum one last time, body barely moving aside from a slight shudder, too worn out, too dazed to even comprehend the fact that Meian unravels himself from you, wiping his face of your arousal and taking a few swigs of water before making his way towards your desk and dialing the admissions office number he finds. And as the phone rings and he leans back in your chair, he adoringly gazes at the sinful display you make, looking like the epitome of debauchery as your body splays out, a stupid blissed out expression on your face, reeking of sex and sweat.

He strokes his cock as it rises back to life, raring to go again as he licks his lips, tasting your sweet juices on his tongue, never stopping even when a voice finally comes through the line. He only pauses slightly to bite back a laugh when something shatters in your pretty eyes, a sliver of realization piercing through your dazed look as you hone in on his conversation.

But you do nothing to stop him, unable to do anything but listlessly stare and watch as he cancels your enrollment in front of you, hangs up the phone, and casually makes his way back towards you as if he hadn’t ruined years of hard work and decimated your future plans in mere minutes.

“There’s no need to go all the way to Tokyo for education, sweetheart. Not when I can teach you everything you need to know right here. Now open up your mouth so we can get your first lesson started.”

[mionemymind]

Chapter 3: The Harsh Treatment

Fake Memories

Series Summary: After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Chapter Summary: What will happen to Y/n as the team pushes her past her limits? 

A/n: I lied, I decided to be nice and post it now. Honestly, the amount of support that I’m receiving from this fanfic has literally made me smile so much. I really love all of you who read and/or comment. You mean the world to me. Let me know what you think. :) (Not my GIF)

Warnings: Starvation, harmful thoughts, curse words, self-doubt, mentions of blood, injuries, angst

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |

Y/n abruptly woke up at the feeling of pressurized gas coursing through her body. She quickly sat up, unable to see anything in the white fog. The cold feeling only lasted a couple seconds before F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Fire has been contained.” Y/n hugged herself for warmth as she waited for the fog to disappear. This was the 13th time this month that she was woken up with pressurized gas. At first, it was foam but someone in maintenance had changed the system after the 5th time she woke up. 

Y/n looked at her surroundings and sighed at the damages to her sheets. There were burn marks along with small amounts of frostbite from the gas. “At this rate, I won’t have money for food.” With a grim face, Y/n got up from her bed and proceeded with taking everything off her bed, a routine she unfortunately started to learn. 

Y/n didn’t know when things got worse. If she had to guess, maybe it was after the whole fiasco with Wanda. The team had been on edge ever since then. “They probably thought I hurt her,” Y/n thought at the time, but it was far from the truth. She had wanted to explain herself to the team but dismissed those thoughts with, “What’s the point in trying? I’ll always be guilty to them.” 

As for Wanda, the still heartbroken girl didn’t dare to speak to the team about that night. Even she didn’t quite know what happened. Since that night, she only lied to herself stating that maybe Y/n had done something. It would probably remove the guilt she had when she thought of the blood running down Y/n’s face. But even the lie couldn’t repress the truth from her thoughts. 

After she collected her bedding, she threw it away in the trash can along with the other damaged beddings. Y/n grabbed her wallet off her night stand and opened it. She couldn’t feel it, but her heart dropped at the sight of the lack of money she had. Only a $20 dollar bill as well as a couple ones were left. She closed her eyes and tried her best to keep herself calm, to try and act like the world wasn’t closing in on her. It was a couple minutes later when she opened her eyes and looked at her wallet again. “This was supposed to last me for the rest of the month.” Y/n rubbed her forehead, feeling the overwhelming stress from her lack of funds. 

One might ask, “Aren’t you an Avenger? Shouldn’t you make a shit ton of money.” And at one point, Y/n would say yes, she did. But it all came back to that night. A week after, she had overheard a conversation that went…

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to her.” Y/n was about to go around the corner, but decided to wait at the sound of Steve’s voice. “It’s simple Rodgers - unless I have to remind you why we needed to redo the glass in the conference room.” Steve sighed at Tony’s simple minded actions. Y/n could practically feel him crossing his arms in a disapproving manner. 

“Well she did work fair and hard for her money Tony - this just feels wrong.” Y/n heard a couple clicks before Tony replied with, “This is for Wanda. Anything to get Y/n out of here by her own means is worth it. If you have a problem with this, you must not care as much for Wanda as I thought.” Steve sighed again seeing as he was morally put in an awkward position. It was either care for Y/n or care for Wanda. “That’s what I thought.” Tony left with a smug look on his face as he clicked more on the screen in front of him. 

It didn’t take long for Y/n to see the effects of Tony’s decision. Her pay day was the following day and the overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety rose up within her as she only had $400 to survive until the next pay day, which was a month later. Since then, her food portions have been small to say the least. Y/n learned that she only had enough money for the month to eat at least once a day and even that was cutting it. The dramatic changes to her diet had slowly affected her powers but it recently had an exponential increase. 

This was her fourth month of hardly eating when her powers started to flare at night. It has gotten to the point that Y/n couldn’t control them in her sleep leading to F.R.I.D.A.Y having to deal with her fireside. But her powers weren’t the only thing that has changed. If anyone were to actually look, they would see that Y/n had gotten skinnier. Her literal glow was getting duller and duller the more time passed.  

However, Y/n refused to feel sorry for herself. The sentence “I deserve this” was burned into her head. The brain tricks she puts herself through even allowed her to convince that Tony's decision was right. That Wanda didn’t need to tell the truth to the team. That Steve didn’t need to defend her. And that the team certainly was allowed to make her feel like nothing. Because to Y/n, if she didn’t deserve this, then why would you possibly treat a person like this? Just why? 

Of course, Wanda didn’t notice these changes at all. The girl was trying her best to avoid Y/n as much as possible. She always had exit strategies in place in case she were to be in the same vicinity as Y/n. However, Wanda also didn’t notice that lack of Y/n’s presence. Much to her dismay, Y/n’s efforts were the reason they didn’t see each other much. 

What Wanda did notice though was the slow and gradual decline of snacks in her cubby. It left her to question whether Natasha was done doing these small favors for her. But her reports were still getting done. 

The red head didn’t have much room to think though as she got slammed down on the mat from the other red head. “Take a ten - you’re distracted and we can’t keep going like this.” Wanda grumbled at another failed attempt to flip Natasha over. Hand to hand combat was one of the few subjects that Wanda hated the most. With the help of Natasha, Wanda got up and walked over to the waters on the other side of the room. She was gulping down the remaining when Natasha’s words caught her off guard. “What happened?” 

Wanda cocked an eyebrow while still drinking her bottle, needing more elaboration. Natasha faced Wanda while hundreds of thoughts racked her mind. Luckily for her, Wanda had trained her on how to make them quiet enough that Wanda wouldn’t be able to hear. When Natasha found the right words, she said, “I am not doubting you. I am doubting her…” Wanda closed the bottle and looked around the room to avoid Natasha’s eyes. This had been the first time that anyone from the team had remotely even asked her about that night. To be frank, she hadn’t expected Natasha to be the one to break the ice. Usually it was Steve that would act like the team’s counselor. Guess things change. 

Wanda sighed and recollected her memory for the night that continued to haunt her. “One minute, I left to get a drink from the bar. - she said that she needed to go to the bathroom. The next minute, I come back to see her all over blondie.” Wanda’s grip on the bottle tightened at the words she was going to say next. “I thought it was a mistake - that she could have been too drunk that night - b-but her thoughts were so - loud.” Wanda slammed her fist at the table in front of her, tears already falling down her cheeks. “A-a-and I saw everything-” 

The broken hearted girl didn’t have much energy left in her to continue. She dropped to her knees and sobbed into her hands. Natasha kneeled beside Wanda. She pulled the poor girl into her arms, trying her best to physically comfort her. But nothing could really make Wanda feel better. What could you say to a girl that saw every moment where her girlfriend has cheated on her? Nothing - you say nothing. 

“It’s quite pathetic actually,” Tony said as he spun the rod, causing his player to score in foosball. He was currently versing Steve as the two decided to quietly speak about Y/n’s actions for the past couple weeks. Going on the defense again, Steve shot back but Tony was quick to block. “She’s probably just trying to get her money back.” Steve huffed from the sudden slap shot as well as Tony’s rude words. 

For the past couple weeks, Y/n had gone from trying to win Wanda back to trying to win the whole team back. The first thing they noticed was all the completed mission reports and the continuation of it. Clint was the first to jokingly comment, “Bruce must really love mission reports.” But the genius bore a confused look before replying with, “It wasn’t me. Even I haven’t had anything to do in my stack for a couple days.” Bruce had a displeasured look on his face. Clint just assumed it was either he wanted to do his stack of reports or the comment was actually true...or maybe both. 

When it was time for the meeting, Clint had asked everyone in the room, minus Y/n, on who was completing the mission reports for everyone. “Well, I’m doing Wanda’s and mine,” Natasha claimed as she sat in her usual spot. No one was able to detect her lie, but then again, Natasha was always good at lying. 

Clint was quick to figure out that the only person remaining must have been the person responsible. With a straight forward voice, he explained to the team that Y/n had been completing everyones, besides Wanda’s and Natasha’s, reports. Still, Natasha sat there, copying the confused looks on everyone’s faces. She didn’t care to tell them the truth, it wasn’t worth it. However, the meeting proceeded with little comment on Y/n’s actions. She wasn’t worth the mention. 

“What if she actually is trying to say sorry to us?” Steve couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for Y/n, but Tony’s words made the guilt go all away. “Oh - so miss Hydra over here actually wants to apologize - hilarious Steve.” With that, Tony quickly spun the rod and scored the final point, making him win the game. What the two failed to realize was the fact that Y/n had overheard their conversation. She no longer felt hungry for the day and had retreated back to her room, feeling overwhelmingly numb from the confession she heard.

It was a new and different day for Wanda. She had managed to want to try and sit in the common room with her team seeing as sitting in her room no longer gave her the same satisfaction anymore. Scrolling through the tv, she was about to pull up Bewitched when the following words appeared on the screen:

Bewitched is longer provided on Netflix. Please see related tv shows. 

“What do you mean it’s no longer available?” Wanda frustratedly questioned. And here she was trying to have a good day. “Sorry kid, I guess Netflix took it off their streaming service,” Clint said as he leaned over the couch. “No why would they do that?!” Wanda said with an exasperated look. Clint simply shrugged, Netflix did have an awful reputation for getting favorites removed or canceled. “No clue, but you could try other shows.” Wanda crossed her arms and huffed at his suggestion. “I was really feeling Bewitched today.” Ruffling her hair, Clint left after saying, “Try to feel for something else.” 

However, Wanda had failed to feel anything but angry for the remaining of the day. It wasn’t until she sat in her room for the night, aimlessly finding shows in her room when she noticed Bewitched on her home screen. She quickly clicked on it noticing that all eight seasons are there for her own viewing. Her mood immensely increased for the night as she fell asleep in the middle of season two. 

Outside of her room, Y/n had been cleaning up the compound for the night. It was getting harder and harder to clean the kitchen when everything in her wanted to just take a couple of snacks for herself. Her hunger was constantly on her mind as well as the stupid flashes that have sporadically appeared more and more everyday. But she wanted more than anything to prove to the team that she is a good person. Stealing, no matter how minor, was probably the last thing she needed to be labeled as. 

When she completed for the night, she returned to her room but paused outside of her door when she heard the Bewitched theme song loudly play in Wanda’s room. A small smile appeared on her face as she walked back into her room and slept on the floor tonight.

“Did it ever occur to you that I love you - like a lot?” The couple were laying in Carol’s room decorated with punk rock posters and pictures of their team. Small plants were placed around the room while Malcolm in the Middle was used as background noise. 

“Nah. I haven’t heard you say it in approximately - 10 minutes?” Carol laughed as Y/n glanced at her watch. They laid on their sides as they faced each other, their faces being only inches away. “Well I do.” Carol cupped Y/n’s cheek as she soon grew mesmerized. 

There are words to always describe feelings with someone but they all felt overused or incomplete. Because everything felt like this daydream colored borders with warm tones and retro filters as she glanced at Y/n. She felt like she was watching a show that she would never get tired of. Even if the show was in color or black and white, new or old, slow or fast, she would watch just to see her. Just her. 

“You do what?” Carol flicked Y/n’s forehead at her response. “Kidding - kidding.” Y/n said as she rubbed her forehead. Carol rolled her eyes and kissed Y/n’s head as she cuddled into her arms, legs tangled within the sheets. “I do love you.” Y/n kissed her hair as she combed it with her hand. “I know,” she whispered, hoping Carol would pick up on the secret reference. Because to Y/n, yeah, she’s worth a whole galaxy. 

It was the middle of the night when Steve woke up from a nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Rather than staying in bed to force himself to sleep, he got up and headed to the kitchen for a late night snack. 

Heading into the pantry, Steve pursed his lips noticing that Y/n’s cubby had been empty for weeks it seems like. The guilt that was slowly forming inside him kept building and building. Although he knew he could try to do something about it, the loyalty he had to his family - to Wanda. That was something he didn’t want to break. 

The relationship with Wanda and Steve was something similar to a father and daughter relationship. Steve had always wanted a kid of his own and Wanda had lost her father. The irony of it all just happened to work for the two. Even though Wanda nor Steve would admit it out loud, they viewed each other as the roles that needed to be filled in their lives. They needed each other regardless of titles.

But then there was Y/n. The troubled girl that made Steve absolutely nervous with how quick her and Wanda seemed to like each other. It absolutely didn’t help Steve’s case when the whole team found out about Y/n’s past. His anxiety had practically skyrocketed. It eventually led to a one on one talk with Wanda about how sometimes we need to protect ourselves before letting people in. 

But Y/n was still there. Breaking down Wanda’s walls. So just like any Dad would, Steve watched over. Making sure his girl was always happy and safe. So while Natasha may have refilled Wanda’ cubby and did her reports, Steve had carried Wanda to bed during nights she couldn’t sleep. He made her tea for times that she didn’t want to talk, which was often. He tucked her in at night and cuddled with her when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was just there. 

But so was she. She was there whenever Wanda cried at night. She was there when Wanda would sometimes forget to eat after busying herself all day. She was there to take care of Wanda. She was there when Steve wasn’t. And that meant everything to Steve. So why couldn’t Steve be there for Y/n? 

There were a lot of unanswered questions roaming around Steve’s head. Rather than pondering more about them, he walked around the tower, eating a pack of cookies for himself. Just as he was turning the corner, he glanced towards the conference room to see Wanda asleep in front of her reports. However, the more alarming part was the girl that happened to be right in front of Wanda. Steve quickly grew on high alert and observed Y/n’s actions. However, after a couple minutes of harmless actions, Steve forced his shoulders to relax. “She’s just doing reports - calm down,” Steve thought. 

But he couldn’t calm down. The guilt had maneuvered it’s way back up to his throat as he actually noticed the pale state of the once bright girl. For someone that had literal fire abilities, she lacked the glow of any raging fire. Feeling nothing but guilt all over, Steve felt compelled to say something - anything. But he froze. He didn’t know what to say. 

However, the opportunity soon was lost as Y/n finished everyone’s stack of reports. Steve hid around the corner as Y/n passed him. Hearing a door close was when Steve stepped out of hiding. He glanced towards the direction of Y/n’s room, feeling every need to go to her. But his footsteps led him to Wanda. He picked her up and carried her to her room. Wanda will always be first in Steve’s heart. And nothing could change that. 

“We have to stop this treatment Tony.” Steve waltzed into Tony’s lab the very next day. For once, he couldn’t sleep for the remainder of the night. Y/n was all over his mind. The guilt was practically eating him alive. 

Tony rolled his eyes at Steve’s dramatic fashion for entrances. “Oh - good morning Tony - how are you - I’m actually pretty good.” Steve rolled his eyes as he stood in front of Tony, a hologram in between the two. 

“Cut the crap Tony - I’m being serious.” Steve crossed his arms. This needed to end. “And you think I’m not Rodgers?” Tony was quick to respond, already growing irritated by the conversation. 

“This isn’t right - none of this right.” Steve wiped the hologram to finally get a clear view of Tony as he grew frustrated by the second. Tony simply swiped it back, not wanting to deal with the issue. “Well maybe if she just quit - we wouldn’t need to worry about anything. It’s not my fault Fury hired Ms. Hydra - and if he finds out I fired her, he would not allow it at all.” 

“But can’t you see that your stupid plan isn’t working? All we’re doing is abusing the girl.” Steve wiped the hologram again but Tony simply walked to a different station and continued his work. Angry with his response, Steve walked around the table and stood beside Tony. 

“This needs to end Tony,” Steve said through his gritted teeth. The man was clenching his jaw so hard, it almost looked as if he was going to break his teeth. However, Tony quickly glared at Steve at the mention of his threat. 

“Don’t you fucking dare. Can’t you actually see that I’m trying to protect Wanda.” Steve tilted his head at the awful reasoning for his actions. “How is this protecting Wanda? Why are you even trying to protect her?” 

Tony slammed his fist into the table, feeling his anger rising by the second. “We - no - I need to protect her Steve!”

“Why Tony? Why?” 

“Because I’m the goddamn reason her parents and her country is dead. I’m the reason that everything she ever loved is gone. I’m the reason for her sadness. She, of all people, deserves happiness. And I sure as hell won’t let anyone else hurt her anymore - no more Steve.” Tony didn’t give Steve a chance as he walked out the facility needing a day drink more than ever. 

It was lunch time and all Wanda could think about was the need to cook paprikash. She didn’t know when the last time she had actually cooked. And seeing as the majority of the team was on missions, she could actually cook without interruptions or lingering eyes. 

Walking into the kitchen, Wanda tied her hair up and started to take out the necessary ingredients for the meal. It was when she was talking the spices out when Vision had appeared out of nowhere, nearly scaring the girl. “Vision!” 

Sensing a slight rise in her heart rate and anger, Vision had quickly apologized. “Sorry Wanda.” Wanda shook her head and quickly resumed prepping. “I will try to work on making my presence known. If I may ask, what is it that you’re doing?” 

“I’m making paprikash.” Vision’s mind grew curious at the word and quickly searched his database for it. “I see. A traditional Sokovian food.” Wanda didn’t realize it, but she had felt a little annoyed at the synthezoid’s presence. It wasn’t anything he did, but Wanda desperately wanted alone time for herself. 

Before she could ask, Vision had said, “Good morning Y/n.” Wanda’s quickly grew wide as she avoided glancing in Y/n’s direction. She hadn’t stayed in the tense position though as Vision announced, “Oh - it seems she had left before saying hi back.” 

Feeling ever more frustrated with people’s presence, Wanda was about to ask him to leave but noticed the confusion written all over his face and didn’t hesitate to ask, “What is it Vision?” Vision pursed his lips and contemplated his words. It was visibly obvious to see that he was trying to wrack up what to say. “I think...it’s just…” He sighed knowing that this was going to be a sensitive subject to the witch but knowing everything she's been through, lying was not the best option. “It’s just that Y/n-” Wanda quickly cut Vision off in desperation to know what Y/n had done to Vision. If the girl were to even lay a finger on him, she was sure to deal with it herself.  “What did she do? Did she hurt you? I swear-” Seeing her eyes turn red, Vision immediately explained himself. “-No no no. It’s not that, the complete opposite actually.” Wanda’s eyes slowly turned back to normal. When Vision saw that her heart rate was close to normal, he continued. “It’s just that...Y/n’s vitals have been decreasing in a fluctuating matter. Some days it would be a small decrease, but some days it would be a big decrease. Overall, her health has been poor.” Vision looked back at where Y/n once stood. If he hadn’t quickly analyzed her, he wouldn’t have noticed that today’s vitals was record worst. “Although she does have physical injuries, she seems to continue to radiate pain throughout her body even when those injuries have healed. It starts through her head and it spreads like a radio wave through her nervous system. I’ve done my calculations and the leading cause could be migraines...” Vision soon was in deep thought, trying to recalculate just to make sure what he was about to say was correct. “...but it doesn’t make sense.” 

Wanda tilted her head. Processing this information was hard seeing as at her darkest moments, she wanted nothing but Y/n to be hurt. She deserved it for all the pain she caused her to go through. But hearing it now? That was a different story. It was like an internal conflict was going through her. Should she even care about Y/n’s health? “What doesn’t make sense?” Vision looked hard into Wanda’s eyes as he said, “Migraines shouldn’t cause her heart to stop multiple times.” 

Wanda stared at Vision, processing the information that the love of her life is practically dying. “A-are you sure?” Vision slowly nodded. “However, after some calculations, I do believe she will be okay. She only needs a good source of food for her healing regeneration to fully heal this.” Wanda relaxed at Vision’s words. Although she has been through immense pain through these past couple months, having Y/n gone from her life like that would hurt more than anything. 

Before Vision could continue his explanation, F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Emergency alert. All available Avengers please head to the quinjet per the request of Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers.” Quickly, the two headed to the plane as the important part of Vision’s explanation was missed. Little did Wanda know, Y/n would not heal any time soon. 

The trio arrived on the quinjet and wasted no time trying to figure out the mission that was ahead of them. There was a serious feel in the atmosphere sensing that this had to be bad. There was no way that it couldn’t have been. Because if it wasn’t, they certainly wouldn’t have invited Y/n to this mission. 

Lately, the girl has been assigned to only solo missions. Y/n couldn’t quite remember the last time that she was on a mission with any team member nevermind the fact with the whole team. 

“Backup is needed immediately after touch down. Vision and Wanda, meet up with Steve and Sam at the Northeast corridor. Y/n, you are assigned to the entrance,” Tony stated through the intercom. 

The feeling in Y/n’s stomach worsened. Not only was she hungry and sleep deprived, she didn’t also have a partner with her. It also didn’t help the fact that the flashes have gotten worse. Y/n couldn’t help but pray for a miracle. After all, they were dealing with the very people Y/n hated - Hydra. 

Y/n couldn’t quite tell when things on the mission got to shit. Maybe it was the fact that as soon as they touched down and went to their assigned positions, Y/n received a massive swarm of Hydra agents. It didn’t help that her health regeneration was not at its peak or these agents actually were decently trained. Or was it during the third wave, that was currently happening, where Y/n tested the limits of her body. 

Seeing the onslaught of agents coming her way, Y/n decided it was time to test out her new ability. She rapidly swung her right arm, building momentum as the fire within her right side blazed. As soon as the enemies were close, she released a fire tornado in their path. It had managed to take out at least half of the wave, but more and more kept coming. 

Pressing her comms, Y/n said, “Can someone send back up my way?! There’s too many for me to handle.” Y/n kicked back the agent that was about to stab her in the back, but was too distracted to the point a different agent was able to cut her leg. “Fuck.” 

Y/n quickly released an ice wall that at first glance, appeared to be the same height as the Great Wall of China. She hoped the barrier would give her enough time for her backup to appear. Focusing all her energy on her fireside, Y/n aimed at any agent near her, using her arm as a flamethrower. 

However, worry immediately grew when no one had responded to her call within a couple minutes. Before she could request again, Nat had spoken bitterly in the comms, “On my way.” Sighing in relief, Y/n continued to fight off the agents the best she could. 

But no matter how hard she tried to buy herself time, it seemed that Natasha was taking forever to come. It had gotten to the point that multiple lashes already appeared. Her healing regeneration couldn’t keep up at all. Not only that, but her body was either giving up from exhaustion or blood loss. It was only during the last couple agents when Natasha had shown up and quickly killed the remainder. 

Y/n glanced at the assassin and noticed the lack of any injuries on her and it was as if she barely broke a sweat. “What happened? I almost got killed.” 

Natasha glared at Y/n as she responded with, “I helped Bucky and Rhodey on the way, they needed it.” Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat knowing the redhead in front of her had practically lied. If backup was needed, it was always voiced through comms. 

Even if Y/n had wanted to confront Natasha about it, she couldn’t. Natasha had already left to head to the quinjet. Y/n simply limped a couple feet from her. When Y/n arrived, it seemed that everyone else was already prepared for take off. Feeling ever more guilty, Y/n simply sat at the closet seat to the entrance that was away from the team. But something inside her broke even more noticing the lack of any questions or concerns from the team in regards to her injuries. 

Not even bothering to buckle up, Y/n sulked in her thoughts when she realized, “Why doesn’t anyone care about me?” 

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